PS 2248 
135 B5 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




D0D0ETDE771 















£. ; J°-*<- 
























' '""/.^ V"> a^V"' 






THE BIRTH, 
IAST DAYS, AND RESURRECTION 

OF JESUS. 



u Forgive the song, that falls so low 
Beneath the gratitude 1 owe ; 
It means thy praise, —however poor, 
An angel's song can do no more." 



BY SOPHIA L. LITTLE. 






PAWT1 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 
1841. 



PS 






ENTERED 
According to Act of Congress, in the year 1 84 1 , 

Br SOPHIA L, LITTLE, 

IN THE CLERK'S OFFICE OF THE DISTRICT COURT 



R. W. POTTER,— PRINTER, — PAWTUCKET, R. K 



POEM I. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 



a2 



THE ANNUNCIATION 



The summer sun has left a bright farewell — 

But growing shadows hang o'er yonder steep ; 
A gentle stillness seems around to dwell, 

Soft and ambrosial as an infant's sleep. 

Yet, brooding o'er the whole, a spirit deep, 
As if the air had thought. Yon river clear, 

And those blue skies, a quiet sabbath keep : — 
Surely some pitying seraph hovers near, 
For love, pure, peaceful, tender love is here. 

But there is one alone — and, kneeling there, 
Amidst the kindred stillness of the place ; 

The voice, the youthful voice is poured in prayer, 
And light and tears are mingling in her face, 
The broken spirit, and the answering grace, — 

The hidden sweetness, and the spirit's love, 
a3 



6 POEM I. 

O'er that celestial countenance we trace, — 
Pure, harmless, chaste, as an unfledged dove, 
And inwardly absorbed in one above. 

Here was no earthly pride, no low desire ; 

But love to God had filled the heart and soul : 
The irradiations of that heavenly fire 

Spread o'er her features, and illumed the whole. 

If e'er her thoughts to earthly friendships stole, 
Her pure affections knew no earthly stain ; 

As, from their source, the limpid waters roll, 
And, to their source within the watery main, 
Return, as limpid and as pure again. 

The spreading shade of the dark forest tree, 
Thy temple is, thou simple, holy maid : 

Here, now, thy melting heart is flowing free, — 
No soul is near thee in this lonely glade, 
But him to whom thou hast so deeply prayed. 

Tis thy delight to tell thy Father all ; 
Thy love, thy hopes, thy fears, are all displayed ; 

In words, in sighs, in tears, that, trembling, fall ; 

Thou dost upon thy God and Saviour call. 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 7 

Ah ! hadst thou not, even from thy earliest days, 

Some intimations of divinity ? 
Th* Almighty would, in his mysterious ways, 

Fulfil his glorious purposes in thee ? 
Wert thou not separate and set apart — 

And was it not thy chief delight to be 
Far from the scenes of splendor and of art, 
Alone with Him who filled thy yielded heart? 

Yet on this eve, this very eve, still more, 

Did not a fuller, deeper blessing come? 
Did not thy soul thrill with prophetic awe, 

Gazing upon thy high and heavenly home ? 

Have not the years fulfilled their destined sum? 
Where is the hope that bless' d the prophet's eyes, 

Long ere the oracles of God were dumb ? 
Is it not time that, midst her darkest skies, 
The promised Star of Israel should rise? 

How silent, all around thee, Nature seems — 
As hushed and listening to thy voice so meek ! 

Is it the sun's farewell and lingering beams, 
Bright as the smile upon a cherub's cheek, 
Illume the cloud o'er yonder mountain's peak ? 

Or was e'er evening glory half so fair, 
a4 



» POEM I. 

Or morn effulgent like the rays that streak 
Yon stooping cloud — as if, enshrouded there, 
Some blessed spirit of the upper air ? 

Mary hath ceased her prayer ; and, seated now 
In holy, happy musings, wrapt above ; 

Her hand sustains her pure and tranquil brow, 
And her full eyes are silent peace and love, — 
Home of the sacred and celestial dove. 
Happy each breath of that low, quiet heart, 
Lovely, devoted, favored as thou art. 

The cloud has left the hill : what sight is here? 

Down from the steepy rock it wings its way : 
Lo ! as its opening folds of glory clear, 

In floods of lucent brilliance melt away, 

Appears an angel from the realms of day ! 
" Hail ! Mary : highest grace is shown to thee ; 

On thee," he cries, 6( abides the spirit's ray ; 
Blessed above all women shalt thou be ! 
Elect of God from all eternity !" 

O'er Mary's face a troubled meaning pass'd : 
"From whence is this to me?" she inly thought ; 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 9 

And in her lowly mind she meekly cast, 
Why God with her so wondrously had wrought. 
Her self-abasing look the angel caught, 

And hastened all the message to unfold ; 
But while he spake the sacred news he brought, 

Th' exceeding joy that o'er thy spirit rolled, 

Oh, blessed Mary ! never hath been told ! 

" Fear not, beloved of heaven, and favored one ! 

Behold ! an infant shall be born of thee ; 
A virgin shall conceive and bear a son ; 

JESUS his ever blessed name shall be. 

Infant of days ! — God of eternity ! — 
He shall be great — Son of the Highest styled ! 

And, by th' Almighty Father's high decree, 
On David's throne, — so long in dust defiled, — 
On David's throne shall reign thy wondrous child. 

" Yea, o'er the house of Jacob shall he reign, 
And endless ages hail his lasting throne J" 
The angel ceased his gratulating strain. — 
But Mary said, " Since I no man have known, 
How shall this wondrous work in me be 
shown ?" 
a5 



10 



POEM I. 



To her thus answered the angelic friend, 

While sweeter music thrilled in every tone : 
" The Holy Spirit shall on thee descend, 
The Godhead's power shall with thy nature 
blend." 

Therefore that holy thing, that mystic birth, 

Is called Jehovah's Son ! And, for a sign 
That God will do a mighty work on earth, 

Elizabeth conceives by power divine ; 

That aged saint of Aaron's priestly line. 
Yea, soon (he barren shall, rejoicing, bring 

Her matron offering to the temple's shrine ! 
Let faith within thy joyful bosom spring ; 
Unbounded power belongs to Israel's king ! 

To the unseen now Mary bowed her head. 

" Behold," she cried, " the handmaid of the 
Lord : 
Be it to me the same as thou hast said ; 

The Lord fulfil his ever gracious word." 

Her heart's assent the gladdening angel heard, 
And stretched his starry pinions to the flight ; 

Long strains of bliss the siient ether stirred ; 
The silent ether shone with trails of light, 
Till far th' archangel vanished from the sight. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST 



CANTO I. 

Evening had lengthened now her shadows 
brown : 

They gather round the mountains sadly still ; 
And o'er the bustle of yon crowded town, 

Whose ancient streets the various strangers fill. 

But, resting there beneath yon arching hill, 
Without the gate, a wedded pair I see ; 

Their weary beast let loose to graze at will : 
Poor seems their state ; yet faint as they may be, 
None pause to yield them hospitality. 

The rich man passes with his costly train, 
And many greetings make him welcome there; 

Around him come the idle and the vain ; 
But who regards yon unobtrusive pair, — 
Or gives one thought to heed how they may 
fare? 



32 POEM 1. CANTO I. 

Nor gold nor honor have they to allure, 

And for the rest the world doth little care ; 
It is enough they are unknown and poor, 
Though theirs the wealth that will for aye endure. 

The man. in ripened youth,— good, serious, 
meek ; 

Younger the woman—and so pure a grace 
Lives o'er that lovely brow and languid cheek, 

That heaven itself seems opened in her face. 

The journey's weariness we there might trace, 
But nothing hurts the even calm within ; 

Nor change of time, or circumstance, or place, 
Could from its chosen rest her spirit win, 
To mingle in the world's confused din. 

" Mary, thou'rt faint ! and I will leave thee here, 
To seek in yonder inn a rest for thee."— 

Thus Joseph spake ; and, from his partner dear, 
Turned with a sigh her weariness to see, 
And sought the inn. Beneath a spreading tree 

The mansion rose : its doors were opened wide,. 
And thronged, with guests of every quality, 

So full, that all access was now denied 

To the poor traveller and his lowly bride. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 13 

" Hast thou no place I 1 ' he to the Master said. 

"None, save the stable: thither thou mayst 
flee, 
And, in the manger, find a rustic bed,— 

The only lodging I can yield to thee." 

This Joseph heard ; and, turning heavily, 
He, th' ungracious word to Mary brought. 

Yet was her gentle heart from murmurings 
free; 
So deeply in the ways of patience taught, 
It ruffled not her quietness of thought* 

Meekly she rose, and left the dewy field ; 

Light lingered yet along the crimson west ; 
The evening moon lifted her golden shield, 

Above the waters as they hied to rest. 
Though mean their bed, upon that manger floor— 

The lordly couch by crowned Caesar press'd, 
Did no such band of guardian angels draw, 
As hovered round that lowly bed of straw. 



There is a deep, a living stillness throws 
Its spell o'er Nature : from the far, far sky* 



14 POEM I. — CANTO I. 

That spreads in full magnificent repose, 
To the least leaf that on the wave doth lie, 
So beautiful beneath the Father's eye. 

So, like a quiet infant in the arms 
Of love maternal even, without a sigh, 

Doth Nature rest, amidst her blessed charms : 

Gazing on her sweet face the inmost spirit calms. 

Whoe'er hath told, what language can convey 

The loveliness, that soul in nature feels, 
To whom the Spirit's all transforming ray, 

God, through the beauty of his works, reveals? 

How blessedly, through such communion, steals 
The influence of an hour divine like this. 

The peace of heaven the pardoned spirit heals; 
Scarce would the soul the earthly body miss,*- 
L-Qst in her own unutterable bliss. 

The holy midnight hour doth round you reign, 
Ye simple shepherds, who forget your sleep ; 

And, met together on the grassy plain, 

Watch, lest the wolf molest the helpless sheep. 
Your pastoral avocations make more deep 

Your unity with nature ; and the chords 



THE BIRTH OP CHRIST. 15 

Of artless piety her hand will sweep, 
Till all your harmonizing soul affords 
Melodious praises to the Lord of Lords. 

How many a night, upon this very plain, 

Hath David, when a youthful shepherd, sung? 

Here once was seen that favored Hebrew swain, 
Perhaps beneath some lonely palm tree flung,— 
While all the night, the love of God he sung. 

His look, so beautiful from inward light, 

So pure the sweetness flowing from his tongue, 

The messenger of heaven, in airy flight, 

Might pause, and with the melody unite. 

They talk of him, and of the former years — 
That group of shepherds, as they watch their 
sheep. 
Such peaceful thought in every look appears ; 
Such happy conference while the fold they 

keep, 
Or such blest silence in their musings deep. 
Behold them leaning now upon the crook ; 
They meditate till they could almost weep — 



16 POEM I. — CANTO I. 

So softening is the page on which they look ; 
That lovely, midnight page of nature's book. 



Hark ! sudden music from those distant spheres ! 

What moving glory from yon starry height? 
Who in the dazzling effluence appears, 

Before the amazed shepherds wondering sight? 

Awfully beautiful ! in God-like might, 
Exceeding brightness sits upon his brow ! 

Yet love ineffable mellows that light : 
But oh ! too much for mortal vision ! now, 
See, faint with dread, the Syrian shepherds bow ! 

And yet that music melting, through the sky 
The still empyrean stirs : how glows the air ? 

Behold the glorious angel draweth nigh ; 
1 marvel not ye scarce the sight can bear, 
As on the plain, revealed before you there, 

He stands all beautiful in God-like grace ; 
The joy of paradise his features wear; 

All his bless'd message beaming from his face — 

Peace, grace, and mercy to the human race. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 17 

He spake ! exultant waved each starry wing — 
And his mild eye diffused a gladdening ray ! 

" Fear not ; for you, for all, good news I bring ; 
Jesus, who takes his people's sins away, 
The Saviour of the world, is born to-day 

In David's town, — and this shall be the sign — 
Wrapt in mean swaddling bands the babe shall 
lay, 

And in a manger, rude and dark, recline, 

In lowly loveliness, the babe divine." 

Lo ! while he speaks a sudden rushing sound 
Of wings ! harmonious in their graceful flight; 

And lo! the radiant shapes, appearing round, 
A multitude, so countless and so bright, 
The heavens seem all one field of living light. 

Gaze ! gaze ! oh shepherds ! drink the glorious 
strains ! 
The song they pour, it hath a deep delight : 

Ne'er heard again on earth, while time remains, 

Is the sweet song they sing on Bethlehem's plains. 

Two-fold; the spirit of that heavenly song, — 
The highest praise to heaven's benignant king 



18 POEM I. CANTO I. 

That even to Jehovah can belong, 

Shall the redemption of the sinner bring. 
His love, made manifest in suffering ; 

His tenderness to fallen man made known; 
His condemnation of the guilt of sin ; 

His intimate alliance with his own, 

Shall wake immortal praises round the throne. 

But oh ! the other burthen of their lay — 

" Peace on the earth, good will to sinful men !" 

Stay ! ye dear heralds of salvation, stay ! 
And let. me hear those balmy words again : 
Pour them upon my grateful heart, and then 

Far let them float o'er all the earth and sea, 
Till nature's utmost voices cry, Amen : 

The grace of God comes in those words to me, 

And all the saved to all eternity. 

What! did I say that song should never more 
On earth be sung? Ah! though no outward 
sound, 

Such as through heaven these cherub voices pour, 
No more shall charm the hallowed air around ; 
Yet shall the spirit of that lay be found, 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 19 

Where'er the heart hath known a Saviour's grace; 

Harmonious peace to glory shall abound ; 
Nor yet the music of this happy place. 
Can tell the bliss of love's redeemed race. 

The air hath caught the soul of that pure song, 

And a meek stillness quiets every breeze ; 
Ocean hath heard it where his billows throng, 

And, like an infant, sleep the glassy seas. 

Earth, too, in that sublime response agrees ; 
Doth not her incense unto heaven ascend, 

From all her flowers and all her fragrant trees ? 
While wakening echoes the far hymn extend 
And heaven and earth in full communion blend. 

And have they gone ! yes, the last note is o'er, 

The last bright wing hath cleft the closing' 
blue ; 
They pause, as longing for that song once more, 

Then, with an earnest joy, each other view. 

" Let us," they cry, "to Bethlehem pursue, 
With glad and grateful hearts, our ready way; 

Our eyes shall prove the wondrous story true, 



20 POEM I. — CANTO I. 

Our eyes shall hail the morning star, whose ray 
Leads on the dawn of Israel's promised day." 

Go, shepherds ; go : it is to men like you, 
Unknown and slighted of the lords of earth, 

Of childlike soul, to God and nature true- 
To such will he reveal the immortal birth. 
Ye, in his eyes, are of a priceless worth ; 

Your simple view no carnal wisdom blinds ; 
Your artless faith may be the sceptics mirth : 

Yet, who is truly wise, but he who finds 

The light revealed to your believing minds ? 

I see an inn, amidst those mighty palms : 

The fluttering torches long have ceased their 
glare ; 
And sleep has fallen with her pleasing charms, 

O'er many a worn and weary traveller there. 

But where are they — that poor despised pair 
Who in the stable sought their homely bed ? 

Look,where those men with solemn haste repair 
By the kind guidance of the angel led, — 
They seek the strangers in yon lonely shed. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 21 

Within, in that rude manger, humbly lies 

A mother and her babe, a new born one : 
Late has he breathed of life the earliest cries ; 

And nestles near her heart, her first born son. 

Down her pale cheeks the tears of rapture run, 
Her soul is filled with love no tongue can tell, 

Her passion and her paradise begun. — 
But words like these her thoughts may faintly tell, 
If words could speak the indescribable. 

"And art thou come? Desire of nations ! thou ! 

Drainest thou a feeble mother's mortal breast? 
Son of the Highest ! at whose throne shall bow, 

In other worlds, the millions of the bless'd ! 

Oh, mystery ! that ne'er can be express'd : 
Yet, yet, within my heart I worship thee ; 

While, to that heart, in infant weakness press'd, 
Trembling, I own the Incarnate Deity: 
God in the holy infant born of me. 

11 Hail ! to thy dear, thy sacrificial heart, 
Come to be offered in atoning power : 

What though a sword through my poor bosom 
dart? 
Though e'en to thee it be an awful hour ? 



22 POEM 1. — CANTO 1. 






Yet, from thy suffering, man's salvation springs. 

Hail ! then : though clouds of wrath around 

thee lower : 

Hail ! crowned Lord of Lords and King of Kings ! 

Mighty in death, and strong through sufferings ! 

" For thee all heaven keeps jubilee to day ; 

And the wide earth is all at peace for thee : 
No battles rage, no sword hath leave to slay. 

For yet, when thou shalt rule from sea to sea, 

Far from thy sight shall war and carnage flee. 
The sword to plough-share turned in thy mild 
reign ; 

Close ties of fellowship, and love most free, 
Shall bind in one thy own redeemed train, 
And none shall rend that happy bond again. 

" For thee, the very deserts shall rejoice 

And blossom as the sweetly budding rose ; 
And at the sound of thy harmonious voice, 
The rugged rock shall chrystal streams dis- 
close. 
Thy loved creation's full and wide repose, 
No storms shall break; but thy own halcyon 
wings 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 23 

The spirit of a love no creature knows, 
Shall dwell and brood o'er all created things, — 
While some new form of bliss forever springs. 

" Thy saved creature, man, shall worship then, 
Not as in darkness, but in union near ; 

Thy bright perfections opening to his ken, 
And that redeeming love — of all most dear — 
That drew thee from thy high and God-like 
sphere, 

Shall bid him at thy feet transported lie, 

His friend, his Saviour and his God revere, — 

Linked by each tender and each awful tie 

To the bless'd souls for whom he came to die." 

Oh ! Mary ! such thy spirit's song would be : 
But lo ! when entering to that humble shed, 

The gladdened shepherds bow the reverent knee, 
And worship that fair child with holy dread : 
Yea, tenderest love with thrilling awe is wed, 

Bathing his sacred feet with many a tear ; 
They bless their God who thus their footsteps led • 

They feel the perfect love that casts out fear ; 

For lo, their own Immanuel is here. 
b2 



24 POEM I. CANTO I. 

There is a deep and holy light within 

Those eyes, on which a mortal may not gaze ; 
It is too clear for hearts not cleansed from sin, 

To bear the pureness of its infant rays. 

A prophet once beheld in olden days, 
The terribly pure chrystal spread above ; 

But oh ! the light that infant look displays, 
Would even the purity of angels prove, — 
So radiant so intense its awful love. 

And were it not for goodness, written there, 

And melting, never changing tenderness ; 
That searching purity would wake despair, — 

The trembling, awe-struck shepherds felt no 
less. 

Yet did a sense of love upon them press, 
Until, in confidence, all terrors flee ; 

Then, then, with glowing hearts their God they 
bless, — 
Or, in a heaven of silent ecstacy, 
Infinite innocence ! they worship thee. 

Heavenly is the smile, that now repays 

Thy earliest worshippers. Expression, there, 
Thy touching infant helplessness displayed ; 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 25 

And more of heaven than angels can declare, — 
It is so gracious, and so purely fair. 
Oh ! it is moving, e'en to watch thy breath, 

And think that Jesus breathes the vital air ; 
And muse on all that inspiration saith, 
Of him who saves us from eternal death. 

And must those tender hands be pierced and 
torn, 
Which to thy mother's heart in weakness 
cling? 
And must that lamb-like brow with many a thorn, 
Be rent and mangled in thy suffering? 
Those eyes, that seem of life the living spring, 
Must they, in pangs unknown to mortals, roll ? 
Yes, shepherds : that bless 'd peace the angels 
sing, 
Comes through the travail of his offered soul, 
When this great sacrifice shall make us whole ! 

Then, glorifying God, they all returned ; 

This swelling praise arose from every breast : 
Joy, gratitude and love within them burned. 

The pleasing image of the new-born guest, 
b3 



26 POEM I. — CANTO I. 

Filled them with mote than e'en their tongues 
express'd ; 
Centred the mind, and drew in its desires, 

Till, lost in ecstacy supremely bless'd, 
They feel the Saviour who their song inspires, 
And the saints' hymn out-does the seraphs' lyres 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 27 



CANTO II. 

Queen of the glorious land ! what means, in 
thee, 

Those clouded looks, that universal stir ? 
Gathering in groups, thy general mass we see, — 

Thy sages in their sacred haunts confer, — 
Thy king sits restless on his royal throne — 

And even at thy shrine, the worshipper 
Hath o'er his face a look of sadness thrown : 
What means this care, whence hath this trouble 
grown ? 

Look, where, beneath the evening's gentle fall, 

Those travellers pass without the city gate ; 
Arabian sages, whom they Magi call ; 

Skilled in the future oracles of fate. 

This morning, Herod, in his royal state, 
Received, to audience, these eastern seers : 

Their words, the court, the city agitate ; 



23 



POEM I. — CANTO II. 



And from the monarch, and the priests and peers, 
A consternation every where appears. 

For thus they spake, — these sages from afar, — 

" Where is the infant, born for Judah's sway ? 
Lo, in the east we hailed his natal star ; 

To him we seek our earliest court to pay ; 

Speed us, ye Hebrews, on our happy way ! 
Long have we hoped for the expected sign, 

Or some bright signal of the coming day ; 
Till, late in heaven, appears, with ray benign, 
The ethereal token of the birth divine*" 

Fear shook the tyrant's cold and jealous heart ; 

And scribes and priests were soon in council 
drawn ; 
That they might to the royal ear impart, 

Where the expected Saviour should be born* 

In vain he veiled his fears in wonted scorn ; 
The ill-feigned semblance could not hide the 
fear, — 

The bitter rankling of the secret thorn, — 
As the pure oracle now made more clear, 
Where the true king of Israel should appear. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 29 

In Bethlehem is his nativity : 

Thus did the seers inspired of Israel write : 
C( Thou, Bethlehem of Judah, shalt not be 

Least of her cities in thy princely right; 

For out of thee shall come in peerless might, 
A governor to rule my scattered fold, — 

The day -star of their long and gloomy night. 
Behold his goings forth have been of old, 
While from eternity the ages rolled I" 

Then Herod called the strangers privily : 

" To Bethlehem speed/' he cries, " with ear- 
nest care ; 

Seek for the child, and when the babe you see, 
Back to the king with joyful haste repair, 
For I would also go and worship there." 

Thither they move obedient to the king ; 
Their guileless hearts mistrust no evil snare ; 

Nor see they where, beneath art's silken wing, 

His murderous malice broods some evil thing. 

Yet why should fair Jerusalem look dim ? 

Should she be troubled at her Saviour's birth ? 
Do not her future hopes all rest in him, 

To be the praise and glory of the earth ? 



30 POEM I. — CANTO II. 

Art thou so steeped in sin and guilty mirth, 
Thou tremblest at his footsteps drawing near ? 

Promises are to thee of little worth ; 
Guilt turns thy Saviour to a judge severe, — 
'Tis perfect love that casts out slavish fear. 

Yet in thy walls there are a chosen few, 

Who for the Hope of Israel humbly wait ; 
These tremble not, but hidden from public view, 

Observe the increasing signs with heart elate. 

Nor know they only by prophetic date, 
A Saviour near ; but lo ! their hearts expand ; 

The Holy Ghost reveals, with glory great, 
The time has come, Jehovah is at hand ! 
And, suddenly, shall in his temple stand ! 

'Tis evening : and o'er temple, tower and town, 
The frowning hill, and far extending wood, 

The thought inspiring shade comes slowly down : 
Yet, the long glowing twilight hath imbued 
That mellow darkness, so that even the dewed 

And grassy plains are seen to shimmer bright ; 
And pleasant 'tis to view, in tranquil mood, 

The landscape, while the rich and lingering light, 

Softens the near approach of solemn night. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 31 

Hail ! cooling gloom, and roll of waters, heard 
Beneath the breezy palms and starry sky — 

Hail J the lone music of the evening bird, 
Whom, while the woods echo her minstrelsy, 
Yon fragrant thicket hides from every eye. 

Our eastern travellers feel the balmy lull 
Of nature's spirit on their spirit lie ; 

And, on their way in silence—but not dull — 

Enjoy that hour so calmly beautiful. 

But see ; they beckon one another now, 

And point with brightening looks to yonder 
heaven; 

Then, to the ground, their heads in reverence 
bow ; 
For lo ! high in the purpling blue of even, 
The wondrous star to guide their way is given, 

! Luminous type ! no cloud of night shall be 
Athwart thy radiant course one moment driven ; 

Thy guiding glory flows serenely free, 

Till they, the better Light of Bethlehem, see. 

Oh, when they saw the star, they did rejoice ; 

Salvation's joy sprang up a living well ; 
And it was uttered in a praising voice 



32 POEM I. CANTO II. 

Of love and ecstacy unspeakable. 

And might such words as mine, their feelings 

tell, 
Here would I breathe their hearts harmonious 

swell ; 
Their hallejujahs, while in bliss they swim, 
Might thus be uttered in such thankful hymn : 

! 
" Let God be praised ! be praised for the un-| 

known bliss ; 

For the glory has reached to our inmost souls;i 

As we gaze on that star in the blue abyss, — 

The sweeter the blessing, the fuller it rolls. 

Let God be praised ! be praised, for Immanuel 

is born ! 

We feel the Redeemer; we feel him within, 

As pure as the rays that yon heaven adorn, — 

So pure are our bosoms, all cleansed from sin. 

Let God be praised ! be praised ! to his cradle 

we go ; 

The star goes before us to guide us along ; 

And when at his feet, more divinely shall flow 

The rapture, the triumph, the praise of our 

sons." 



THE BIRTH OP CHRIST. 33 

Thus happy they, till now the town they gain ; 
> And lo ! the star stands still. Ah ! tell me 

where 
Jo they behold it? where yon palace vain, 

Tells that the noble of the earth are there ? 

Nay; but o'er yonder stable, where a pair 
.3f humble travellers a shelter find ; 

Thither the happy, weary men repair, — 
So hath God cleared the vision of their mind, 
'it hurts them not, that thus their Lord they find. 

There is a holier awe comes o'er the thought, 
From that deep poverty that round him lies ; 

Something that sets the pride of life at nought; 

' A majesty more perfect in our eyes. — 

Wanting the baser pomp which worldlings 
prize. 

Those homely rafters, that poor naked stall 

' Are meet to echo to his infant cries ; 

f Oh ! do they not, the more sublimely, call 

Thy spirit worshippers ? great Lord of all ! 

IThere they behold thee at thy mother's breast, 
With all thy glorious weakness on thee laid ; 
IThe star, dissolved in light, hath found a rest, 



34 POEM I. — CANTO II. 

In wreathing halos, round thy head displayed. 

Deep was the homage by the sages paid ; 
Each gave their princely gifts meet for a king : 

But, oh ! the heart by love obedient made, — 
This is the better sacrifice they bring, — 
This is the Saviour's chosen offering. 

At length, retired they sink to peaceful rest, 

With purpose for the morning's earliest gleam, 
Their course shall be to Herod's court address'd ; 
But he who hath the heart pervading beam, 
Warned them of treachery in a nightly dream- 
Bidding them home return another way ; 

For though most fair the tyrant's purpose 
seem, — 
That Judas of the Saviour's infant day, 
With guileful worship, would the Lord betray. 

The baffled tyrant watched, and watched in vain ; 
Hell still was gathering round his raging 
breast ; 
But when they came no more from Bethlehem's 
plain, 
His murderous envy could not be repress'd. 
Determined to destrov that infant bless'd, 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 35 

His heart brought forth the dark, malignant plan ; 

None but a demon spirit could suggest 
The blackest blot upon the name of man, 
Since the sad history of the world began. 

And Joseph slept; but as he sweetly sleeps, 

He starts, an angel's glorious form to see ; 
u Fear not," a voice from the pure glory said, 

" I watch thy slumbers oft invisibly. 

But wake ! arise this hour, and take with thee 
The mother and the child ; no longer stay : 

Far, far from Bethlehem into Egypt flee, 
And be thou there until I call away, — 
For Herod would the holy infant slay." 

The noon beheld them at a fountain's side 

Watering their weary camel : they had gone 
A long, long journey since the morning tide, — 

As by the wings of unseen angels borne. 

Yet pensive seemed that infant born to mourn, 
And Mary's tears flow o'er her gentle son ; 

Doubtless, her soul, with sad forebodings torn, 
Presaged, too well, what Herod's hand had done, 
And saw the streams of infant slaughter run. 



36 POEM 1. — CANTO If. 



ft 






In Bethlehem, when morning's early tinge 
Touched the low dwelling, oh ! 'twas fair to 
see! 

Where the thick mantling vines so richly fringe 
The open door running from tree to tree — 
The early sports of smiling infancy— 

Some older — but the younger, blossoming 
From two years old and under, winneth me ; 

They are so bright, in their most joyous spring, 

And, with such graceful love, around their mo- 
thers cling. 

Hark, to the tramp of horses ! every door 
Is thronged to see : 'tis an unwonted hour — 

The armed bands within the village pour, — 
The savage myrmidons of Herod's power, — 
Alas ! alas ! for Bethlehem's infant flower. 

So innocent, so unsuspecting too, 
Upon the knee, or sporting in the bower, 

Ye smile, as ye the shining sabres view, 

And little dream they come to slaughter you 



Perhaps the mothers feel forebodings touch 
Their yearning hearts, as in their fond caress, 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 37 

They strain their babes with passion overmuch, — 
Till gushing tears, as down their cheeks they 

press, 
Bespeak the sudden and the strange distress. 

For oh ! a heart of right maternal mould, 
Will often a prophetic power possess ; 

And many things are, to her spirit, told, 

Her infant's coming hours must yet unfold. 

An infant stands by yonder basin clear; 

Too pleased, the pebbles in the wave to dash, 
To hear the cruel horsemen drawing near, 

To heed the dazzling sabre's sudden flash, — 

Fearless, he turns, as his last pebbles plash ; 
O'er him he sees the ruthless soldier stand — 

Down comes the blow with sudden, fearful 
crash ! 
Once ! once he groans ! and waves his little hand ! 
His blood and brains are on that murderer's 
brand. 

The work has now begun ; the mothers wail 
Their unregarded and heart-broken cries ; 

The dying infant's shrieks, these tell the tale, — 
Nature's foul wrongs, and her deep agonies. 



38 POEM I. — CANTO II. 

Where now the little hearts, that joyous beat, 

All redolent of bliss, at morning's rise ; 
Alas ! no other morning shall they greet, 
They lie expiring at the murderers' feet ! 

Think not, oh ! selfish monarch, that these groans, 
To heaven's ear, shall unregarded come ; 

For every pang each wretched mother owns — 
For all these wounds so eloquently dumb — 
Thy dark, thine awful guilt's o'er measured 
sum, 

Lo ! the avenging hour ; for thee it speeds, 
Red with the thunders of thy dreadful doom ; 

No more, for thee, the seraph Mary pleads, — 

Thou fillest up thy sanguinary deeds. 

Mothers of Bethlehem ! I can pity you, 

Through visioned years, as gazing now I stand, 

And the dark day of infant slaughter view: 
Yet there are mothers in my own loved land, 
Could more the bitter story understand. 
Aye ! for a deeper woe, than Herod's brand 

Struck to your souls, — they feel, forever feel 
There is a more inexorable hand, — 



\ 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 39 

To such an anguish doth those mothers seal, 
As mocks the piercing of the tyrant's steel. 

Yet, think not, sweet maternity, thy ties, 

Most bless'd of heaven, are rudely rent in vain ; 
There go to heaven from thee, such lonely cries, 

As may not, must not often rise again. 

My God will break for thee the oppressor's 
chain, 
That breaks thy heart and chills thy holy bliss ; 

Thou shalt not bear, in sorrow and in pain, 
To lose what pays for all, — thy infant's kiss, — 
And its dear nestlings from thy bosom miss. 

In Bethlehem, when the dim sun declined, 
i There was the silence of a deep despair ; 
No cheerful stir, no voice of human kind 
Save that, perhaps,some saintly mother's prayer 
Arose to God, while weeping sadly there 
O'er her dead child, kissing the marble face, — 
Parting the stained gold ringlets of the hair : 
She craves, in pity to her hopeless case, 
The strong sustainings of Almighty grace. 

c2 



40 POEM I. — CANTO II. 

In Rama was a voice of weeping heard ; 

Rachel, for her lost children, mourned and 
wept; 
No comfort through her desolations stirred, 

Where, on her plains, her murdered children 
slept. 

Oh thou ! who hast the seed of Israel kept, 
Are not thy tender mercies still in store ? 

Why has the tempest o'er her vallies swept ? 
Her lovely ones that bloomed so sweet before, 
Behold ! they perish, and are seen no more ! 

I heard a voice from heaven, and lo ! it said, 

" Bless'd are the innocents who fell to-day ; 
Unconscious martyrs! who for Jesus bled!" 

" Yea," saith the Holy Spirit, " bless'd are 
they :" 

The sword could only the frail body slay ; 
One woe, one pang was all the sufferers knew ; 

Then, on the fiery chariot borne away, 
They sing the Saviour's song forever new, 
And his dear face with joy perpetual view. 

Meantime, beyond the tyrant's useless rage 
The holy infant dwells in Egypt's clime ; 



THE BIRTH OF CHRIST. 4 J 

Destined to suffer at a riper age, 

No man may take thee till the appointed time. 

But lo ! dark Herod fills his years of crime. 
Recalled to Palestine, the babe behold ! 

Led through new perils by a hand sublime, 
Until in Nazareth see his youth unfold, 
Even as the ancient mysteries foretold. 

There still may Mary's fountain clear be seen, 
In that most sheltered valley, gleaming out ; 

And, oh ! full oft thy infant hours, I ween, 
Were pass'd alone far from the ruder shout 

Of thy young peers, in that lone valley there; 
Even then, thy Father's silent work about. 

How sweet amidst that scenery, cool and fair, 

From childhood's voice rose the Redeemer's 
prayer ! 

And may I dare to think what visitings, 
Deep in those lovely solitudes, were made? 

With what communings of celestial things 
The heavenly bands their nightly visits paid ? 
Oh ! was not oft their slow return delayed, 

jfazing upon the manifested one? 
c3 



42 POEM I. — CANTO II. 

The power, the wisdom, here in flesh dis- 
played, — 
Redemption's glorious mystery begun, — 
The hallowed childhood of the eternal Son. 



There thou didst pass thy boyhood ; there, for me, 

Thy young heart learned to suffer and endure ; 
There passed thy youth, — a silent mystery ; 

There grew thy human nature, nature's cure. 

Amidst a world of sinners, meekly pure, 
Unholy Nazareth ! all thy arts of sin 

Could not his blessed purity allure : 
A fountain of deep goodness dwelt within, — 
The smiles of God, the hearts of men to win. 

No more ! no more ! I close my humble strain, 
Hymning my Saviour's birth. Oh ! may it be, 

I have not touched the sacred lyre in vain ! 
Oh ! may some heart the Star of Bethlehem see, 
And in the spirit come to worship thee; 

And from thy manger and thy stable learn 
The grandeur of divine humility ! 

Yea, round thy infant temples, well discern 

How clear the glories of the Godhead burn ! 



POEM II. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 45 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS, 



CANTO I. 



Thou glorious evening ! is there not a charm, 
A deep prophetic stillness inly blent 

With all that glow, so beautiful, so warm, 
Spread o'er Judea's living firmament ? 

Judea, darling of the Almighty's eye, 
O'er whose all-sacred loveliness was sent 

His fruitful showers, his south winds gentle sigh, 
And genial sun-beams with a golden shine, 
Bathing the happy fields of favored Palestine. 

Yet solemnly and slow the sun goes down, 
As if no more it should in gladness rise ; 

Alas ! thy day of grace, dear land, has gone ; 
Yet from the midnight darkness of thy skies, 



46 POEM If. CANTO I. 

A light shall dawn, which, when yon blessed sun 
Is quenched forever in a shoreless sea, 

Coeval with eternity shall burn, — 

Hope of a ruined world, the star of Calvary ! 

Who sits beside yon fountain of pure stone, 
Swelling it with his tears' unheeded flow 1 

An outcast, whom his kindred fear to own : 
A child of pain and poverty and woe, — 

One held to be a carpenter's crazed son. — 
Oh ! who, among the great, would pause to 
know, — 

Save, as an idle wonder, while they run 

Their giddy course — the griefs of such an one ? 

Slow gathering, one by one, a lowly band 
Circle their humble leader : one, more near 

Than all the rest, hath knelt to press the hand, 
And, reverent, wipe away that burning tear. 

iC Master," he cries, " we have the feast prepared, 
And lo! the hour has come, the evening's near, 

We wait thy steps, our Master and our Lord. 
Oh thou! whose happy presence maketh sweet, 
And full of tender joy, each place where'er wc 
meet." 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 47 

The upper room, the spacious upper room, 
Hung with the graceful garlands of the vine ; 

The table spread, the offered lamb, whose doom, 
Thou dear self-offered one, prefigured thine. 

Thou enterest with the twelve, with meek, slow 
pace ; 
Yet trouble clouds those lineaments benign ; 

An inward strife hath flushed thy gracious face — 
Thy mystic travail, waxing mortal, now 
Hath blanched thy quivering lip, and darkened 
o'er thy brow. 

It sharpens, to the crisis this great war 
Of love — with sin contending unto death ; 

While he, who willingly the conflict bore, 

Who yet shall win the conquerer's palmy wreath, 
Rose mid his brethren, and with faltering breath, 

Checking his pain for those he loved so well, 
He broke the bread, with often changing cheek : 

Then, while his eyes beamed light ineffable, 
These words of precious memory deigned to 
speak : 

H This is my body, friends, broken for you : 
Eat my beloved ; all, the feast partake : 



43 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

And oft as ye the loving rite renew, 
Remember him who suffered for your sake." 

Oh dearest Lord! thy kind command should 
move 
Our yielding hearts, with gratitude to thee ; 

So melting are those gracious words of love — 
" As oft as ye do this remember me." 

And now, his hand, the mystic cup extends ; 

Where, consecrate, the produce of the vine; 
" 'Tis the New Testament/' he cries, " my 
friends ; 

Receive my bleeding life, and life divine. 
For you, for all, the tide immortal flows ; 

Sin's full remission, glory's open door. 
To all who seek, in me, their soul's repose, 

My love shall more than Eden's bliss restore, 

And man, redeem'd, commune with God once 
more/' 

And what is this ! the supper, being done, 
Behold ! he rises with a lamb-like grace, 

And in his meekness, God's coequal Son, 
Girt with a towel, takes a servant's place 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 49 

Before his twelve poor followers, bending there, 
Bathing their very feet, that all might see 

The truth he thus would to all time declare, — 
The soul of christian love is sweet equality. 

"Lo! an example I have given you; 

Nor is the servant greater than his Lord ; 
If deeds of lowly fellowship ye do, 

Ye little flock, most happy your reward. 
I speak not of you all ; I know my choice, 

Know all their love, sincerity and zeal ; 
Yet, in fulfilment of prophetic voice, 

He that doth eat with me, against me lifts his 
heel." 

He sighs in spirit ; oh that rending sigh ! 

The requiem of the lost ! No keener pang 
Can thrill thy soul, e'en when 'twixt earth and 
sky, 

Thou like a doom'd, dark criminal shalt hang. 
How from thy lips, falls every fatal word : 

" He that eats with me, shall his Lord betray : w 
How tremblingly the sad disciples heard ; 

While every bosom sickened with dismay. 






50 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

Now there was leaning on the Saviour's breast 

One whom he loved,* whose child-like soul 
drew near, 
In the communion of a holy rest ; 

Through all his toils and sufferings most dear; 
Whether by Galilee's blue sea they roved, 

Or on the mount, or with the multitude ; 
In every change still loving, still beloved ; 

But most he joyed to share his Master's soli- 
tude. 

Through this dear follower, Cephas sought to find, 
Which of their band should do the deed ab- 
horred ; 

He, on the Saviour's bosom still reclined, 
Confidingly enquired, who is it Lord? 

" To whom," said Jesus, " I this sop extend, 
He is the man, who shall my life betray." 

Oh better far for that perfidious friend, 

Ne'er to have seen the blessed light of day, 
Than thus for mammon's lure, to sell that life 
away. 

Here read ye nations! as a lesson, read 
This climax of all crime; from whence it sprung; 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 51 

'Twas last of gold betrayed the Lord to bleed ; 

The lust of gold the wretched Judas hung. 
Oh avarice ! for thee love had no charm ; 

And in thy cruel heart, it woke no thrill ; 
And that sweet voice, that could the surges 
charm ; 
It could not win thee from thy savage will, 
Nor the wild demon storm of human passion 
still. 

The sop was given to the traitor guest, — 

That child of avarice, of hate and guile, 
Who sought to veil the guilt his look express'd, 

In the deceitful semblance of a smile. 

And did he think that being to beguile ? 
Whose glance of pure rebuke and injured love, 

Now bade his fearful heart within him quake, 
And o'er his soul, a sick foreboding move, 

While thus, in tones suppress'd, to him the 
Master spake : 

1 That which thou doest, do quickly :" at the 
word, — 
Whose inward meaning he alone could tell,—- 



52 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

The very presence of his doomed Lord, 

Became to him intolerable hell. 
And forth he rushed into the open air ; 

The gloomy shades of night around him fell ; 
And had he breathed in words his burning care, 

Thus would his gloomier soul its secret hor- 
rors tell : 

"'That which thou doest, do quickly V — dost 
thou know, 

And yet so far beyond the fear of fate? 
It stings my rage to hasten on thy woe, 

Because thou holdst thyself above my hate. 
I will be quick : the shining prize is near, 

And thou thyself dost urge me to the goal : 

I hasten to the deed ; away with fear, — 

Although it be perdition to my soul. 

II Oh ! that I had, beside his offered price, 
The precious ointment Mary lately poured; 

The rest might take their fancied paradise ; 

Leave me the pleasures of a golden hoard. 
But yet he knows.— Who is he thus to know? 

And why this dark foreboding of my thought ? 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 53 

\m I not sure despite his knowledge, now 
In our toils he's so securely caught ? 

1 True I have seen him quell the mightiest storm ; 
% And the hushed waves laid trembling at his feet; 
An awful grandeur clothed his youthful form; 

While scarce a heart around him dared to beat ; 
tut scribes, and priests, and pharisees declare, 
I It is by sorcery these deeds are done ; 
Lnd he the doom of blasphemy should bear, 

Because he made himself Jehovah's Son. 

I would not have him die : and if I thought 
That they would slay him, this I could not 
brave : 

ut yet the price my very soul hath bought ; 
The silver, oh ! the silver I must have ; 

he silver is my god ; I feel its power ; 
I feel it like a spell upon me thrown ; 
have felt something hurrying to this hour, 
E'er since I have the son of Joseph known. 

'Twas in the hope thou wouldst have been a 
[ king 

il joined thy vagrant band ; but now I see ;— 



54 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

And far away my idle dreams I fling : 

Thou never didst, or canst rule over me ; 

I would thy visionary kingdom flee. 
'Gainst all thou art, all in me doth arise ; 

Fire and the floods may sooner far agree, 
Than thou and I be bound in kindred ties. 

Then let me haste, and win the glittering 
prize." 

A freer air that circle seemed to breathe ; 

Yet for a time in silent thought profound, 
Their folded arms across their breasts they 
wreathe, 

And sit in musing meditation bound, 
Till silence ceases, in this heavenly sound : 

" Now I, the Son of Man, am glorified ; 
And God himself is glorified in me. 

For sin forgiven, for justice satisfied, 
Glory immeasurable flows from thee 
Upon thy Son, — great source of Deity. 

" My little children, soon no more you see 
The face of him, who is your bosoms' light. 

Whither I go, ye cannot follow me ; 

Yet on your hearts, this new command I write 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 55 

Let an o'erflowing love your souls unite ; 
Stronger than death the inseparable tie ; 

Strong as the love which drew your Lord be- 
low — 
Which leads him on to suffer and to die. 

By this the world shall my disciples know, 

If such pure flame within your bosoms glow." 

Then Cephas thus : " Oh ! whither goest thou V* 
To him, with tenderness^ replied the Lord : 

11 Whither I go, thou canst not follow now, 
But in thine hour shalt follow afterward." 
At this, the zealous soul of Cephas stirred ; 

" Lord, why not now ?" he cried with fervency ; 
" Since thy dear cause my very life may claim.'* 

11 Wilt thou indeed" said Jesus " die for me ? 
Ere twice the cock, the morrow's dawn pro- 
claim, 
Thrice shall thy lips deny thy Masters name." 



Thy priestly prayer, and that farewell discourse 
That from thy precious lips like music fell, — 
Drawing their hearts with sweet, persuasive force., 
d2 



56 POEM II. — CANTO Is 

I may not in my feeble numbers tell. 

No ; let them in thy simple gospel dwell, 
Pure, full and gracious as they flowed from thee* 

The majesty of that mysterious prayer, — 
The breathings of incarnate Deity, — 

The word that healed thy poor disciples' care, 

Remain a stream of life forever there. 

Where the dark olives wave o'er yonder mount, 

In the soft freshness of the evening breeze, — 
And here and there o'er some low sparkling fount 

The moon's pale light falls dimly through the 
trees. — 
In a still garden, on that fair ascent, 

Fit place for peaceful talk, and musings high, 
The Saviour and his friends full often spent, 

The swiftly waning night, in happy colloquy. 

That scene, endeared by many blissful hours, 
Passed in communion of a perfect love ; 

And a deep wisdom, whose seraphic powers 
Ripened the spirit for its home above ; — 

That hallowed spot where the Redeemer's lore. 
So oft had fallen, like fructifying dew, 

That lonely olive grove he seeks once more, 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 57 

For thither a strong power his suffering spirit 
drew. 

u My soul is sorrowful, even unto death ! 
Tarry ye here, and watch awhile with me." 

Hear, oh my soul ! what thy Redeemer saith, 
Entering the shades of sad Gethsemane. — 
Remember that this hour was borne for thee. 

Alone, my Saviour, wast thou ? Yes alone ; 
The fiery shaft had to thy bosom sped ; 

No heart to echo, or to feel thy groan ; 

Far from thy soul thy Father's smile had fled, 
And his deep thunders rolled above thy head. 

Mysterious rites, and ties of penal fire ! 

This night must wed thee to thy human bride ; 
This night, when languishes heaven's sweetest 
lyre, 
And the bless'd saints, their lovely splendors 

hide. 
Come thou, for whom he lived and loved and 
died, — 
Where'er thou art, in Greenland's polar snow, 

d3 



58 POEM II.— -CANTO I. 

Or where sad A trie* rolls her golden tide; 
Come where these trees their solemn umbrage 

throw, 
And muse with me awhile on thy Redeemer's woe. 

But a stone's throw from his belov'd he went, 
For to their friendly sympathy he clung ; 

But o'er their souls, with grief and travel spent, 
As died the last faint murmurs of his tongue, 
Sleep had her soft, oblivious mantle flung. 

Alas ! while sinners sleep, must Jesus mourn ! 
Terrors unknown his suffering soul appal ! 

Till with the storm of anguish overborne, 
Prostrate upon the cold, cold earth he falls, 
And with strong cries and tears,^upon his Fa- 
ther calls. 

" Father, all things are possible to thee ; 

Oh let this cup of sorrow pass aside ; 
Yet not my will, but thine be done in me." — 

And can the glorious suppliant be denied ? 

Must deeper clouds the face of glory hide ? 



*" This id my commandment, that ye love one another 
as I have loved vou." 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. f59 

Wilt thou not look upon thy Son's distress ? 
And must he fail ? shall fiends his spirit press 
Forth from his clay ? Man's fate is in the beam; 
And fallen and weak he lies who can alone re- 
deem. 

Who cleaves the darkness with a wing of light, 

And on his wings bears some ambrosial charm ? 
Before the sufferer he stays his flight, 

And sheds invisibly refreshing balm. 

And Jesus lifts his eyes in awful calm ; 
Strengthen'd to live to bear what yet remains. 

But oh ! what sight to meet an angel's eyes ! 
The purple current of his purest veins 

Pressed through his pores, and stained, with 
crimson dyes, 

The hallowed ground where the Redeemer lies. 

For he had prayed, in agony profound, 
Until his fearful sweat was, as it were, 

Great drops of blood, falling upon the ground. 
Amidst the chillness ot the evening air, 
Thy burning heart, my Lord, no chill was there. 

Yet stronger than the tortures of this hour, 



60 POEM 11. CANTO I. 

Thy deep redeeming love within thee glows ; 
There, is the life, the overcoming power, 
Sustains thee now, amidst such crushing woes, 
As none but God could bear and none but Je- 
sus knows. 

Saviour ! the loveliest name in earth or heaven, 
Where once an angel lingered let me pause; 

Thou hast in pitying grace my sins forgiven, 
And love to thee my inward homage draws ; 
And silently my yielded heart adores 

Her bleeding God ; and oh ! her love can see, 
In the prostration of this suffering night, 

A brighter beam of true Divinity, 

Than when beneath thy all creating might, 
Thy young creation smiled and called thee 
Lord of light. 

The agony, the mystic agony, 

The purple sweat of tortures all unknown, — 
The sorrow unto death endured for me, — 

Be as a living spell around me thrown, 

To make my heart more tenderly thine own. 
Thou glorious angel ! who didst succor bring ; 

'Tis my Redeemer there in anguish pleads ; 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 61 

Go ! tell the highest angel, that his King, 
For me, a poor and trembling sinner bleeds, 
And his redeeming love, their loveliest song 
exceeds. 

Twice in his trial, he had sought the three ; 

But slumber o'er their weary senses stole ; 
11 What! could ye not watch one hour with me !" 

Then did his love the mild reproof control ; 

" The spirit's willing, but the earthly mould 
Is weak and failing. Yet my friends awake, 

Temptation's darkest hour is near at hand." 
Twice thus the warning voice of Jesus spake ; 

Now the third time he finds the sleeping band 

Forgetful of their Master's kind command, 

I seem to see his look — their arms are cast 

Each round his friend ; as weary children sleep. 
The gracious sadness of the evening past, 
Hangs o'er each face as they had loved to 

weep ; 
The smitten shepherd gazed upon his sheep ; 
" Why sleep ye ? rise and pray," he, sorrowing, 
said; 
" Lest sudden snares the unwary heart enfold ; 



62 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

He is at hand who doth his Lord betray,— 
Tempted by satan and the love of gold ; 
Yea, while I speak, his hastening form be- 
hold." 

Yea, while he spoke, quick flashing through the 
trees, 
The distant torches cast a trembling glare ; 

Jesus the ruffian band advancing sees, 
And the stern glancing of the arms they bear, — 
And Judas, the accursed, among them there. 

Firm with the little band he onward goes. — 
When full in sight, * whom seek ye here ?" 
he said. 

" Jesus of Nazareth," exclaimed his foes. 
His answer, u I am he," like arrows sped : 
Backward they faintly reeled, and fell as dead. 

Oh ! glorious token of thy majesty ; 

Thy sovereign liberty to die or reign ; 
How sweet to think it was thy purpose free, — 

Thy royal will to be for sinners slain ! 

And can one heart untouched by this remain ! 
My soul rejoices in thy power thus shown — 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 63 

A beam of glory from that final day, 
When, midst thy saints,upon thy judgment throne, 
Each knee shall bow to thee, each tongue thy 
sway shall own. 

Judas, with heartless treachery, had given 
A sign by which they might his Master tell : 

Oh ! blot his baseness out from under heaven ; 
The shame of earth, the very scoff of hell ; 
A treachery so soulless and so fell. 

What ! the celestial kiss of love divine 

Turned to the signal of a murderous crew ? 

Well might the watching stars forbear to shine, 
And sicken into dimness at the view, 
When Judas rose from earth and near his 
Master drew. 

For not the terrors of a scene like this, 

The deadly impetus of crime could stay : 
With the blasphemous mockery of a kiss, 

He greets his Lord, and does his life betray. 

But mark — what will the soul of meekness say : 
" Friend, wherefore art thou come? betrayest thou 

Thy Master with a kiss?" Oh may we learn, 



64 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

In love and pity, o'er the worst to bow ; 
Since Jesus, over Judas, seemed to yearn, 
And fain would have perdition's son return. 

Vainly, rude men, ye draw the cruel cord, 

Lest your great victim should his bonds remove; 
A stronger power retains your captive Lord ; 

The sweet constrainings of Almighty love. 

Yet hear him meekly thus your deeds reprove : 
u Come ye as for a thief with armed bands ? 

When daily teaching in yon sacred fane, 
Against me then rose no assaulting hands." 

But 'tis the inevitable hour of pain ; 

When evil men andffiends against Messiah 
reign. 

" But let these go their way," he said, and threw 
With calm but earnest love, his eyes around, — 
As a fond sire would bid his sons adieu, 

When on some distant, dangerous voyage 

bound, — 
Though from his lips no words of blessing 
sound. 
Did he not look a blessing ? and those hearts, 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 65 

That swell, as in a storm some mountain brook, 
Feel the mild influence their Lord imparts, — 
The stilling sweetness in his parting look ; 
Save one whose fiery soul with strong emotions 
shook. 

A glimmering dream, perchance, in Peter's mind, 
That now Messiah's kingdom should be won ;-— 

Or burning indignation thus to find 
A lawless mob assault the anointed One ; — 
Whate'er it was, the deed was quickly done — 

The sword was drawn, the avenging blow was 
given. 
Had not that blow been partly turned aside, 

By the direction of all-seeing heaven, 
Perchance the added guilt of homicide, 
Had sunk the soul of him who thrice the Lord 
denied. 

Jesus put forth his hand, and kindly healed 
His wounded enemy ; oh ! lovely sight ! 

Which more the indwelling Deity revealed, 
Than even Tabor's uncreated light. 
" Put up thy sword, — the warrior's stern de- 
light ;— 



66 POEM II. — CANTO I. 

For all who take the sword, the sword shall slay 
A hand unseen my soul through all- can see, 

The inward tortures and the outward fray ; 
The cup my heavenly Father giveth me, 
Shall I not drink, and drink it willingly ? 






" Thinkest thou I could not to my Father cry, 
And shining myriads should my cause uphold ? 

But how should then the voice of prophecy 
Be all fulfilled, which to the seers of old 
Messiah's mystic sufferings foretold ?" 

He spoke, and willingly, was led away; 
His terrified disciples flee afar : 

Thus from the hunted stag when brought to bay, 
The herd disperse and leave the unequal war, 
While on the bleeding deer the hounds their 
fury pour. 






THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 67 



CANTO II. 

Jerusalem ! unconscious of thy doom ! 

Thy fate is fixed, and numbered are thy hours ; 
How heavily this solemn midnight gloom 

Hangs o'er thy stately palaces and towers ! 

Oh ! where are now the bright angelic powers 
That had thee once in charge, — city of peace ; 

Where David's harp the coming Saviour sung ? 
Now shall the voice of bard and prophet cease ; 

A cup of bitterness for thee is wrung ; 

A mantle of the grave is o'er thy glories flung. 

Who enters at thy gates ? Even he who came 
To gather thee, but thou wouldst not believe ; 

Led like a criminal in grief and shame. 
Oh! dost thou thus thy Heavenly King receive ? 
What eye, but lowly faith's could there per- 
ceive, 

In that poor man, — so stricken and so pale, — 



68 POEM II. — CANTO II. 

Whom the infuriate mob before them send, — 
Him, whom the prophets as Messiah hail ? 
Of whose dominion there shall be no end, 
Till the wide universe before his sceptre bend. 

There lingers one, far in the rear behind, 
Of different aspect from that multitude ; 

And fear and love are struggling in his mind. 
'Tis one of Jesus' followers by his mood, 
Though he would plainly not as such be 
viewed. 

See him a bold and careless look assume, 
And onward move, as one among the crowd ; 

Till filled with light, amidst surrounding gloom 
That overhung the city like a shroud, 
Open and thronged, appears the priestly pal- 
ace proud. 

With yet more trembling heart he passes on ; 
But soon he meets, with joy, a well known 
friend ; 
The well beloved of heaven, the faithful John, 
In whom true courage and true meekness, 
blend— 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 69 

The marble steps together they ascend. 
John, being known, a ready entrance gains ; 

Then from the maiden portress, at the door, 
He, for his friend, a like access obtains ; 
For lovely fellowship within his bosom reigns. 

Not with the upper circle of the hall, 

Who, round his fettered Lord, in council drew ; 
Yet still, where he might clearly witness all, — 
' Below, among the priestly retinue. 

So did his coward fear his faith subdue. 
Him, standing thus, the portress of the door, 
; Now with a keen observance, closely eyed 
'His mien, his dress, the conscious air he wore; 

" Thou too art of his followers/' she cried. 
■ But he of recreant heart, the unwelcome charge 
denied. 

And to relieve the pressure of his soul, 

And shun their eyes, forth in the porch he went; 
And while dejected fears upon him roll, 

Gazed, half unconscious, on the firmament. 

Nor heeded he, on gloomy thoughts intent, 
The earliest clarion note of that loud bird, 

Who loves to hail the first approach of day. 



70 POEM II. CANTO II. 

Or if, indeed, that warning note was heard, 
Idly upon his ear it passed away ; — 
As restless toward the hall again he bent his 
way. 

Full was the council ; every look express'd 
The breathless interest of that fearful scene : 

There, the high priest, in sacred vestments 
dress'd, 
A secret triumph in his haughty mien. 
But oh ! how different, suffering, yet serene, 

Before him stands the prisoner, closely bound. 
The prisoner ! oh tremble every heart ! 

The depth of love, that's in that blessed sound, 
Might bid the secret soul of nature start, 
And in the cold, dark grave a gleam of life 
impart. 

It seems but little more than thirty years 
Have over him in toil and travail sped ; 

But what a history of pain and tears, 

In that pale countenance if rightly read, — 
Of heavenly love to human sorrow wed. 

He takes upon him nature's misery ; 

Her sickness, through his suffering, is cured,— 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 71 

His perfect suffering even to Calvary's tree, 
Where he must finish all in his last agony. 

Then reverence, my heart, reverence that man — 
Wasted, and worn, and put to shame for thee - T 

Let the cold cav'ler say whate'er he can, 
This man must be my bosom's Deity, — 
Because he loved and gave himself for me. 

I can but worship, and my Saviour greet, 
My Lord, my God ; and may I but remain,, 

Forever, Jesus, at thy sacred feet. — 

'Tis all the heaven my spirit seeks to gain ; 
Nor greater blessedness can any soul obtain. 

The searching looks of the chief priests were 
thrown 

Upon the Saviour, in their toils at last; 
And thoughts of all that they had seen and known 

Awoke their passions, like a stormy blast. 

The strong denunciations Jesus cast, 
Through all his ministry, upon their pride ; 

The Godlike power his miracles displayed, — 
Working against them like a mighty tide ; 
e2 



72 POEM II. — CANTO II. 

The efforts for his capture, vainly made ; 
These all before their minds were now at once 
arrayed. 

These were their words, if they their feelings 
spake : 

" Is this the illustrious prophet of Judea ? 
What, he, who made the whole Sanhedrim shake? 

Where are his threat'nings now of woes severe 
Upon our priesthood ? where the thunder sound 

Of all his miracles ; whose spreading fame, 
Filled with a trembling awe, the country round ? 

Sunk in a cloud of ignominious shame, 

Which, soon, in endless death, shall quench 
his vaunted name." 



Then spake their head, and in the circle rose : 
" Declare, oh ! Nazarene, thy dangerous lore ; 

And who the followers that thy train compose. ,, 
Jesus, (who, through the smooth disguise h 
wore, 

Of that dark soul the secret workings saw,) 
Simply replied : " I spake before you all 

The open synagogue and temple sought : 



• 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 73 

Why ask of me? Upon the people call, 
Who daily heard me where the Jews resort ; 
Behold they know the sacred truths I taught. " 

Scarce from his lips the guiltless answer ceased, 
When spake a leader of the temple band : 

" Is this thy answer to the ruling priest ?" 
He spoke, and raised his sacreligious hand, 
And struck the brow of him born to command 

God's endless empire ! Yet, with patient air — 
** If I have spoken evil," answered he, 

*' Do thou in words thy better witness bear ; 
But if the truth, why hast thou smitten me '?" 

Meanwhile, as Peter with the servants stood, 
They cry — " Behold a follower of his train !" 

And he, by satan inwardly dismayed, 
With earnest vehemence, denied again. 
Yet, lo, to prove his bold assertions vain, 

" Did I not see thee in the garden there ?" 
The kinsman, of the wounded Malchus, cried — 

Stung, at the quick detection, to despair, 
He, with a bitter oath of shame and pride, 
The third, the fatal time his blessed Lord denied. 
e3 



74 



POEM II. — CANTO II. 



Immediately the cock for morning crew— 

The simple teacher, whom his passion spurned ; 
But what revulsions now his bosom knew ; 

When at the sound, his friend, his Master turned 
Those eyes, that all his heart at once discern. 

Their mild rebuke seemed more than words 
to say, 
" Simon, bethink thee of my prophecy, 

1 Ere twice the cock foretell the coming day, 
Thrice shall thy Saviour be denied by thee ;' 
Recall the warning words, the sad fulfilment see." 

Struck with the look, in keen remembrance woke 

His boastful promise and his faithless tongue ; 
His soul was pierced, his heart within him broke; 

Forth through the open portico he sprung ; 

Upon the senseless earth, his body flung ; 
And sobbed the fullness of his bursting soul. 

"What have I done to thee, my faithful Lord ? 
Worse than the wretches who thy fate control ; 

Thy look, my God, it was a two-edged sword ; 

It smote my spirit through, it thrilled at every 
chord. 

11 Why didst thou, from the shores of Galilee, 
In gracious meekness, call me to thy side ? 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 75 

Why did I e'er on heavenly Tabor see, 
That lovely vision, — Jesus glorified ? 
Since I have thee forsaken, thee denied. 

I saw the thronging sorrows on thee press ; 

Before thy foes a fettered captive driven ; 
Yet I forsook thee, in thy deep distress, 

And then disown'd thee. Is there mercy, 
heaven ? 

And may so false a heart e'er hope to be for- 
given ?" 

But turn we to the prisoner, still the same ; 

While to condemn the innocent, they sought ; 
A fruitless toil ; they found no cause of blame, — 

Till, at the last, two witnesses they brought ; 

Yet these agree not in their vain report — 

II He cried," they said, "if yonder glorious shrine, 

A wreck, a ruin, at my feet should lie, 
Without the work of hands, by power divine, 
Again its lofty towers should soar on high, 
Ere thrice the rising sun had purpled o'er the 
skies." 

But dumb with silence, Jesus calmly heard 
All that their potent malice could suggest ; 



76 POEM II. — CANTO II. 

And his mild bearing more their anger stirred ; 
Till the high priest, in Aaron's lineal vest, 
Imperious thus his prisoner address'd — 

" Answerest thou nothing ? Deignst thou no 
reply ? 
Then I adjure thee by the holy One, 

Even by the blessed Majesty on high ;" 
(Who could the solemn adjuration shun,) 
" Art thou the anointed Christ, the great Je- 
hovah's Son ?" 



Oh for the look, that, with these words, was 
given ; 

" I am ; and lo hereafter ye shall see 
The Son of Man come in the clouds of heaven, 

In full dominion, and great majesty ; 

And on his Father's throne, his seat shall be." 
Rage struck his enemies — the priest arose, 

Rending his robes ; " he speaketh blasphemy ; 
Ye hear what blasphemies his lips disclose ; 

What further need of witnesses have we ? 

Say Israel's fathers what his doom shall be." 

Then rose they all, and with united breath, 
(One, in the spirit of their envious hate,) 






THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 77 

Adjudged the holy prisoner to death. 

So does the triumph their dark souls elate, 
They join the mob, to aggravate his fate. 

They bind his eyes, and, then, with jeering, cry : 
The Judge of Israel on the cheek they smite ; 

"Who smote thee, then, thou, Jesus; prophesy ?" 
Thus they oppress with mockery and spite, 
The darling of the skies, the Father's chief 
delight. 

The blows, that marred thy face, the spittle rude, 
The unfeeling taunts, the pressure of their 
scorn, 

The agony, that all thy soul imbued, 
Oh ! Jesus ! oh ! my God ! for me were borne. 
For me, thy heart did wait the coming morn, 

Gathering itself to suffer ; mayst thou yet 
See that thy sufferings were not in vain ; 

Thou, whose dear locks upon thy head are wet 
With dews of anguish, like a summer rain : 
Oh ! may we love thee well, who caused thy 
travail pain. 

Wane swiftly, heavy night ; oh f wane away ; 
I fain would have the hour of suffering o'er; 



78 POEM II. — CANTO II. 

My sorrowing muse dreads, and yet loves the day ; 

Was sorrow e'er so wed to joy before ? 
Jesus, in spirit, let me go with thee, 

Through every precious, every trying scene : 
From Gethsemane's grove, to Calvary ; 

Where the full glory of my Lord is seen, — 

And where I fain would dwell, with not a 
cloud between. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 79 



CANTO III. 

Sweet Palestine ! now o'er thy palmy hills, 
Rise the glad matins of the early morn ; 

Soft melody the waving forest fills ; 

And, from the valley, sounds the shepherd's 

horn ; — 
And far away the enlivening song is borne, 

Through the dark thicket and the winding glade; 
And oft the grateful chaunt of early day 

Will the still solitary glen invade, 

Where some lone hermit takes his happy way, 
Afar from all the world to meditate and pray. 

Ah ! who could gaze upon thy scenes so fair, 

And feel the appeal of nature reach his heart, 
And think a crime, a curse was hovering there, 

And all thy loveliness must soon depart ? 

Yet turn we to yon city's open mart ; 
Her ample gates this moment they unfold, 

Her temple brightens in the rising sun \ 



80 POEM II. — CANTO III. 

That sun must, ere his going down, behold 
A mighty battle fought and lost and won, 
Between the hosts of hell and Christ,the anoint- 
ed One. 

Hark to the shout ! it comes from yonder throng 
There is the priest, the lawless mob to guide 

In this their hour of triumph, leading on 
The foe of spiritual and earthly pride. 

His face is bruised with many a cruel blow ; 
His face that wears a heavy trace of tears; 

To heathen Pilate's judgment seat he goes ; 
Yet, midst their mockery and insulting jeers, 
Before his shearers dumb, the patient Lamb 
appears. 

And they have passed — but who is this, who now 

Steals from the house of Caiaphas alone ? 
Horror and hell are written on his brow ; 

And deep despair is in his inward groan ; 

" Is he condemned V 1 he cries in shuddering 
tone : 
il And will they on the cross of torture stretch 

My kindly Master, whom I sold to die ?" 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 81 

Oh cruel traitor ! oh perfidious wretch ! 

Yet fly, though hell pursues thy footsteps, fly , 
Give back the accursed bribe — the price of 
treachery. 

He meets the priest ; " oh ! I have sinned," he 
cries ; 
" I have betrayed the innocent to bleed ; 

Take back your bribe ; 'tis anguish to my eyes, — 
The fair temptation to the fatal deed." 
Unhappy Judas ! what can now exceed 

Thy utter misery ? when, with scornful look, 
" What is thy penitence to us ?" they say : 

Then the last hope his wretched soul forsook ; 
No more could he endure, no longer stay, 
But dashed the silver down, and trembling, 
fled away. 

Lone was the field the fall'n apostle sought ; 

Fearfully desolate : he gazed around ; 
His sobs had ceased in one determined thought : 

From his set lips there came no human sound. 

He raised himself, and then with one wild 
bound / 



82 POEM II. — CANTO III. 

Headlong he fell, and dyed his parent earth 
With the death crimson of his bursting veins. 

Far better never to have seen the birth ; 
His soul departs in strange unearthly pains, 
And weltering on the ground, his blackened 
corse remains. 

* # * # * # # 

Where rose his palace, midst its columns tall, 
Pilate comes forth before his Jewish train, 

Who could not enter then a Gentile hall ; 
Oh 1 vain adherence to traditions vain, 
Where the true law could no admission gain. 

Pilate looked coldly on the priestly clan, 
And bade the leaders of the people move 

In their arraignment of the captive man ; 

But what against their prisoner can they prove, 
But words of heavenly grace and miracles of 
love? 

Yet now their groundless charge the elders bring : 
u This man has roused revolt among the Jews ; 

Announced himself as our anointed king, 
Forbidding Caesars's tributary dues." 
Thus boldly, they the Holy One accuse. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 83 

Oh blackest calumny ! abhorred deceit ! 
'Gainst him who would no earthly kingdom own ; 

Who meekly laid his dues at Ccesar's feet, 
And fled to deserts to avoid a crown. 

Pilate, who, instantly, the motive saw 

Why they in chains their glorious captive led, 

Answered them coldly ; " Have ye not a law ? 
Go judge him — ye who in that law were bred." 
" We have no lawful power," the elders said, 

" With death to punish this offender's wrong." 
Thus they resign him to the Roman sway, 

As he foretold them in prediction strong, 
When, drawing near the city, on the way, 
He solemnly announced the approaching day. 

Then Pilate entered to the hall again ; 

And, summoned, Jesus slowly entered in, 
Encumbered by the bondage of his chain ; — 

The ever blessed sacrifice for sin ; — 

There still and free from the tumultuous din, 
" And art thou Israel's king, I ask of thee ?" 

Pilate enquired with look of lordly pride, 
" Did other men report this thing of me, 

F 



84 POEM II. — CANTO III. 

Or comes it from thyself?" the Lord replied ; 
While his all searching glance, the heart of 
Pilate tried. 

Then Pilate, with an added scorn, began ; 
" ? Tis thine own nation hath delivered thee ; 
What hast thou done V s Now from that out- 
lawed man 

There came a token of that spirit free, 

Above all bonds, above all misery ; 
11 My kingdom of this world is not," he cried ; 

" Else would my servants arm, in my defence ; 
Nor should I as thy prisoner abide ; 

But now is my dominion not from hence." 

" Art thou a king, then ?" in a tone subdued, 
Pilate rejoined, with an increasing awe ; 

That wrought his spirit to a milder mood ; 
For well he knew no common man he saw. 

There is within the soul a voice of grace ; 
And had he yielded the obedience meet, 

Even at this moment of the Lord's disgrace, 
He would have fallen from the judgment seat, 
And washed with tears his Saviour's fettered 
feet. 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 85 

" Thou say est it," said Jesus ; and his eyes 
Shone with the beauty of eternal truth. 

As he had said ; " though in his low disguise, 
And seemingly a poor deserted youth, 
Yet thou hast truly spoken ; and in sooth 

I am a King ; I am the King of kings; 
My throne is love ; my spirit and my word, 

Beneath my feet bring all created things ; 
Forth from my lips it goes a twoedg'd sword, 
Till the whole universe confess their rightful 
Lord. 

" To this end was I born ; yea, for this cause 
I came into the world, that I might bear 

A witness to the truth, and he will pause 
And love to imbibe the doctrines I declare, 
Who bears within his heart her image fair." 

Saith Pilate " what is truth V 9 but did not stay 
To hear the Saviour's answer. Gracious Lord ! 

When at thy feet for needful light we pray, 
Oh ! may we wait with patience for thy word ; 
And tenderly entreat till thou the prayer hast 
heard. 

Pilate, returning to the impatient crowd, 
Now pressing to the entrance of the hall, 



86 POEM 11. — CANTO Hi. 

Waving his hand for silence, cried aloud : 
" I, in your captive, find no fault at all. 
But there's a custom, at this festival, 

I should a prisoner release to you 

Whoe'er the voices of the people choose — 

Shall I to Jesus then this mercy shew ; 
And, from these bonds unmerited, unloose 
Him, whom ye call the monarch of the Jews?" 

Fierce rose the cry, " Barabbas, not this man." 
Barabbas was a robber, who, of late, 

Committed murder, leading on a clan 
Of wild insurgents, to annoy the state ; 
Yet him the Jews in their exceeding hate, 

Prefer to Christ, the blessed Prince of Peace ; 
Yes, he must die ; the sinner free must go; 

Oh ! was it not a type of man's release ? 
Freed from the prisons of eternal woe, 
While Jesus takes our place and meets the 
avenging blow. 

Aloud, they cry, "through Galilee is spread 
The stir and power of this pretender's name." 

When, hearing of that country, Pilate said, 
" Is Galilee the land from whence he came?' 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 87 

" He is a Galilean," they all exclaim. 
11 Go then," he cries, " where Herod holds his 
court ; 

These things to Herod's kingly care pertain ; 
To him yourselves and prisoner report." 

For over Galilee he could not reign, 

Nor know the treasons of his own domain. 



Beneath the cool pavilion's purple shroud, 
See Herod seated mid his courtiers gay ; 

Fanned from the breezy morning's balmy cloud, 
And in the pomp of royalty's array ; 
In full enjoyment of a lestal day. 

Beauty and grandeur gathering round his feet, 
Diffuse o'er all his heart elation high ; 

As in a courteous tone he deigns to greet, 
With his proud spirit dancing in his eye, 
The fair and martial forms, that to his throne 
draw nigh. 

A different throng are at the gate below, 
Attendant on a far, far different king ; 
I Soon as their urgent embassy they show, 
f2 



88 POEM II. CANTO nr. 

The hall of audience, they open fling, 
And Jesus to the kingly presence bring. 

Jesus, who in the eye of heaven, appears 
More excellent in his extreme disgrace, 

Through clouds of dust, and misery and tears, 
Than Herod, who, in pride of power and place, 
Upon the prisoner gazed, with stern enquiring 
face. 

For of the youthful prophet he had heard ; 
How life and death were subject to his will ; 

And the wild elements obeyed his word, 

At his commanding madate ; " peace be still." 
But now, though deeply bowed with every ill, 

Herod, in vain, that mighty mind would test ; 
No word his calm and silent lip replied ; 

No miracle a hand divine express'd ; 

And he, who ne'er a beggar's suit denied, 
Refused a show of power to kingly pride. 

With many a scoff, the disappointed lords, 
Taunt the unhappy, smitten from above ; 

Yet in the midst of their oppressive words, 
His tender heart could weep large tears of love, 
And all his soul, in yearning softness move. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 89 

While in mock royal robes, as well designed 

To show derision of his dignity, 
Herod to Pilate's power again consigned, 
The unresisting Saviour of mankind. 

Having convened the Jews, then Pilate spake : 

" Ye, to my bar, the prisoner have brought, 
As one who sought the general peace to break, 

By the seditious heresies he taught ; 

Yet, having proved him on your own report, 
In the accused I find no cause of blame. — 

To Herod's court I sent the prisoner, bound; 
And hence, without one badge of guilt, he came ; 

We for your charges see no certain ground ; 

No rightful cause of death is in your captive 
found." 

Lo, where a messenger appears in haste, 

Through the dense crowd there goes a sudden 
stir; 
A letter in the judge's hand is placed ; 
What can it be, at such an hour from her 
The noble lady of the governor? 
And thus the memorable message ran : 
f3 



#0 POEM II. CANTO III. 

(So through a storm a cherub takes its flight:) 
" Oh ! have thou nought to do with that just man ; 
Because of him, on this momentuous night, 
Around my restless couch did awful visions 

light.*- 

Was it a dream of Calvary came to thee, 

That o'er thy sleep such fearful darkness flung? 

Didst thou between the earth and heaven, see 
A pale and ghastly form by torments wrung? 
Was not thy conscience by the vision stung, — 

As if thyself had doomed him there to die ? 
And was it not revealed with power within, 

The tortured form, that filled thy spirit's eye, 
And seemed the fullness of thy heart to win, 
Was the great offering for human sin ? 

As o'er and o'er the solemn words he read, 
New thoughts of fear in Pilate's bosom spring ; 

And thus to the assembled crowd, he said ; 
11 Shall I release Barabbas, or your king ?" 
Now did the air with shouts repeated ring 

From that wild mass, most like a foaming sea; 
(For the chief priests stirred that tumultuous 
tide,) 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 91 

" No, not this man, Barabbas we will free." 
\£ " What do I then with Jesus?" Pilate cried. 
Uprose a sterner shout, " let him be crucified." 

N Why," he exclaimed, " what evil hath he done V 

The louder yet the roar of voices rose 
Against the anointed and the holy one ; 

" Let him be crucified/' Insatiate foes ! 

This painful death your heartless malice shows; 
How could you look upon that sorrowing face,* 

And colder than the ice-bound rocks remain ? 
How could you doom the heart all truth and grace, 

To break beneath the racking power of pain? 

And wast thou, Lord, for these thy murderers 
slain ? 

Then Pilate yields to their unjust demands ; 

And forth before the multitude he stood ; 
And while he in the ewer, laves his hands, 

He cried : " I wash me from this guiltless 
blood ; 

See ye to it." Then, as a raging flood, 
Swollen by a whirlwind, lifts its voice on high, 

They cried aloud, in their enfrenzied zeal, 
11 His blood on us and on our children lie." 



92 TOEM II. — CANTO III. 

With fearful imprecations, thus ihcy seal 
The doom, which yet their banished children 
feel. 



And has the moment come, and will they dare 
To mangle that pure temple of thy frame? 

Yes, they have bound thee to the pillar there, 
And who, oh, Saviour ! can thy sufferings 

name, — 
As they prepare to do their work of shame ? 

Come, Roman lictors, come, the soldiers call, 
Cruel and merciless your stripes may be ; 

Know that my Saviour will endure them all, 
In the deep patience of his love for me ; — 
But what, oh gracious friend, shall I return to 
thee? 

Another, and another ; oh my God ! 

Their heavy stripes have entered to thy soul ; 
And fast and free upon the ensanguined sod, 

The crimson torrents of salvation roll. 

Most blessed Jesus, thus thou mak'st us whole. 
Oh ! by thy cup of sorrow running o'er, 

May all my grateful thoughts in homage move; 
Love is the Deity I must adore ; 






THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 93 

Love is the Deity adored above ; 

And dearest Lord thou art incarnate love ! 



Unbind your victim, faint and dyed with gore, 
Given in your hands, ye soldiers; mock his 
woe, 

And o'er his reeking wounds with anguish sore, 
With fiendish glee, the faded purple throw, — 
The mimic sceptre in his hand bestow ; 

Plait the sharp crown of regal mockery, 

And press it closely on his bleeding brows ; 

Salute him king, and then the suppliant knee, 
In keen derision of his weakness, bow, — 
He bears it all in silent meekness now. 

Yet comes an hour, when ye again shall bend 

Before the man to whom ye kneel in scorn : 
Sign of a kingdom that shall know no end 

Is that slight reed his trembling hands have 
borne ; 

Tljc hiding of his power is in each thorn 
Ye fiercely round his aching temples fold : 

There dwells more glory in that blood-stained 
dress, 
Than the far spreading universe can hold; 



94 



POEM II.— CANTO III. 



And in that face, disfigured with distress, 
The spirit of eternal loveliness. 

With some faint hope to move the general mind, 
Pilate addressed the crowd around the door : 

" That ye may know no cause of blame I find, 
Lo ! I present your prisoner once more : 
Behold the man !" The gazing people saw 

A stricken, bleeding form, with mockery's wreath 
Around his head, all recent from the scourge; 

Yet hatred is not quenched.— Still for his death, 
Moved by the priests, the bellowing people 

urge- 
So hollow winds arouse the wild, relentless 
surge. 

" Take him yourselves," (thus Pilate answered 
them,) 

'• With your own hands your victim crucify ; 
I see no cause the prisoner to condemn." 

Incensed, the leaders of the Jews reply : 

" We have a law ; by that he ought to die, 
Because the Son of God himself he made." 

At these dread words did Pilate's spirit bow, 

To touch that sacred life the more afraid,— 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 95 

Back to the hall he turned with solemn brow 
And trembling heart, enquiring " whence art 
thou r 

5ut Jesus answered not ; with wondering pride 
Then Pilate said : '* what speak'st thou not 
to me? 
.', in my power thy death or life decide." 
i Jesus replied with innate majesty : 
; " No power at all has Pilate over me, 
5ave by the grant of overruling heaven ; 
- And hence a greater evil he has wrought, 
Yho, to the Gentile sway, my life has given." 
i At these calm words with truth and wisdom 
fraught, 
Pilate for his release more earnestly besought. 

5ut now their last, their boldest plea they bring : 
" Releasing him, thou art not Caesar's friend ; 

'\)r whosoever makes himself a king, 
Does treason to th' imperial crown intend." 
These words the nobler thoughts of Pilate end ; 

Conscience, to interest, that moment yields. 
Now comes the consummation of their deeds ; 



96 POEM II. — CANTO III. 

This vine of earth, hangs ripe in Judah's field ; 
The harvest of God's righteousness succeeds 
And mercy triumphs even when Jesus bleeds 

In robes of state to strike a solemn dread, 
Pilate appears upon the judgment seat; 

Before him stands the judge of quick and dead 
The hour is come, the crisis is complete, — 
He must the sentence of a mortal meet. 

" Behold your king !" he spake ; a murderous crj 
Rose to the heavens, yea to the heavenly throne 

" And must I then your monarch crucify V* 
Indignant shouts again the Lord disown ; 
" Caesar shall be our king, Caesar alone." 






The sentence has gone forth ; and he has gone ( 

To suffer death ; and Pilate has retired, — 
They lead him on, (his heart with sorrow torn,) 
With all the fury which their hate inspired. 
Filled were the streets where'er the sound 
transpired 
Of the great prophet to the torture led ; 

And there were those whose sickness he had 
healed ; 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 97 

^hose he had wakened from the silent dead ; 
And some disciples whom his love had sealed, 
Unto the glory yet to be revealed. 

[e goes to Calvary through yonder gate ; 

The altar of our sacrifice is borne ; 
tooping his bleeding back beneath its weight. 

See where he slowly moves, — the rabble's scorn. 

It is the fervor and the height of morn ; 

nd the dank sweat, drops from his brows like 

rain. 
[ He faints, he sinks, who is of power the source — 
nd lo a stranger must the load sustain, 

Whom the impatient Jews compel, by force, 

To bear to Calvary the burthen of his cross. 

ut broke the bitter and the loud lament 
The presence of the priests could ne'er restrain ; 
<Dr as with that great multitude they went, 
The heart of woman could no more contain, 
* And wept aloud, and sobbed and wept again, 
it Jesus turned, and with a sorrowing air, 
Gazed on these mourners of his scattered sheep; 
Ye daughters of Jerusalem ! forbear : 



93 POEM II. — CANTO III. 

Your flowing tears for your own anguish keep ; 
Weep for yourselves and for your children 
weep ; 

" For lo, the coming days ! when they shall say, 
Bless'd are the barren who did never bear, 

And she who never nourished infancy ; 

Changed to a heavy curse, that pleasing care. 
Then to the rocks and hills in their despair, 

c Fall on us, cover us,' these men shall say ; 
For if these things are done in the green tree, — 

— If thus I suffer sin to take away — 

What shall the doom of those dead branches be 
Whose withering unbelief rejected me ?" 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 99 



CANTO IV. 

Oh ! Calvary ! thou solitary hill ; 

Place of the doomed and unsepultured dead ; 
The very sun upon thy brow is chill ; 

Thou seemst to gloom and endless silence wed. 

Yet on thy bosom, shall this day be shed, 
Such blood as shall forever hallow thee ; 

In all the universe shall be no ground 
So sacred to the soul as Calvary. 

Angels shall on thy summit oft be found, 

And in thy ev'ning air their melodies abound. 

Who are the multitude, that now invade 

Thy death-like stillness? up the hill they press; 

Three men, like criminals, in front displayed ; 
He in the midst whose very looks express 
The majesty of virtue in distress. 

Yes ! never earth so pure a victim saw ; 

G 



100 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

What heavenly goodness! yet what pain is 
here ; 
Look up my soul, look on him and adore ; 
There is no trace of guilt, no touch of fear ; 
The perfect work, of perfect love revere. 









Now on the altar of the cross, they bind 

The holy and atoning sacrifice : 
And while the priests glut their revengeful minds, 

As prostrate bound upon the cross he lies, 

Tears of keen misery fill his closing eyes. 
Through thy extended hands, the nails they 
drive ; 

Ah ! the keen spasms thrill thy faithful breast 
Then through those feet, all tremblingly alive, 

With cruel strength the torturing nails are 
press'd — 

And thy low groans the fearful shock attest. 

They lift his cross ; the blood of ransom flows; 

With such a thrust 'tis driven within the 
ground, 
The joints divide ; and in extremest throes, 

He hangs suspended on each bleeding wound. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 101 

Come, sinners, see your king enthroned and 
crowned. 
Two wretched criminals with thee they slay ; 

Thou in the midst — our pardon and our peace; 
Through thy own spirit, offering up to-day 

The sacrifice, in which all shadows cease, — 

The great oblation of our souls' release. 

What voice is that goes forth upon the air ? 

Redeeming love in every blessed tone ; 
" Father, forgive them ;" was the Saviour's prayer; 

M They know not what they do." How sweet 

has flown 
That breathing incense to thy Father's throne! 

Thy garments now the soldiery divide ; 

Fulfilling what the prophecies declare, — 

While the chief priests, who round the cross 

abide, 

Triumph to see thy writhing body there ; — 

Nor their unfeeling taunts of bitter mockery 

spare. 

How solemn, o'er that thorn encircled head, 

The title of the Saviour's cross appears! 
Yet, by the blinded multitude, 'tis read, 



102 POEM II. CANTO IV. 

And made the burthen of their boisterous jeers. 
But most the priests contemn his groans and 
tears; 
11 Others he saved, himself he cannot save" — 

Oh veiled hearts ! who could not thus perceive 
How freely, he, his life an offering gave ; 
Still they delight his sacred soul to grieve ; 
" Down from the oross descend, and we will 
then believe." 

The Roman soldiers mingle in the jest. 

" Art thou their king? then save thyself," 
they say : 
Their vinegar, in mocking pledges press'd. — 

Yea, even a thief who suffered on that day, 

Does the dark malice of his heart betray; 
" If thou be Christ, then save thyself and us." 

But one, a memorable child of grace, 
Saved from the venom of the cross' curse, 

Thus spake, while flowing tears each other 
chase 

Down the death paleness of his softening face : 

cl Hast thou no fear of God, seeing that we, 
Alike, the lingering penalty endure ? 




THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 103 

A fate indeed we merited ; but he, 

Though doomed with us, is innocent and pure." 

Then turning to the Saviour far too poor, 
Too perishing to heed the scorners there, 

Confessed the Son, even on the shameful tree. 
How full the faith of thy believing prayer, 

Thou deeply humbled child of Calvary ! 

" When in thy kingdom come, then Lord re- 
member me." 

Scarce the imploring lips had ceased to pray. 
When, with o'erflowing love, the Saviour cries, 

(Oh precious promise !) " verily to-day, 
Thou shalt with Jesus be, in paradise." 
Come, now, ye sinners, from the haunts of vice, 

Yea from the horror of your death beds come ; 
Yea from your gibbets stretch your bloody 
hands, 

Ye penitents, his bosom is your home : 

He draws you to his cross with loving hands, 
And wide, for your poor souls, the door of 
heaven expands. 

Oh ! thou, who lovest to exalt the weak ! 

And o'er this criminal didst pour such light, 
G2 



104 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

When the chief priests, who should in wisdom 
speak, 
Now grope at noon-day In the darkest night; 
Still in thy great atoning work, delight, — 
Still magnify the freedom of thy grace, — 

Still prove, 'tis not our righteousness that 
saves ; — 
The legal pride of man's vain heart abase, 
From where, o'er Calvary, love's banner waves, 
To where the last redeemed forsake their silent 
graves. 



But thou, who dost his present grace refuse, 
If bold in sin, thy heart should vainly dare 

The extent of his redeeming power t' abuse, 
And trust salvation to a death-bed prayer, 
Look on the other thief, and oh beware ! 

His heart has grown as callous as a stone, — 
On which the rays of mercy vainly shine ; 

5 Tis satan's seat, 'tis reprobation's throne ; 
Thou who wouldst slight to-day his love benign, 
Oh tremble ! lest that sinner's doom be thine 

Return we to the cross, that awful scene, — 
Thy soul for greater wonders still prepare ; 









THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 105 

Beneath the cross, stands one of lowly mien, 
Who bows her head with grief that none may 

share ; 
Those lovely lineaments resemblance bear 

To that mysterious sufferer on the tree, 

As much, perhaps, as might in mortal dwell ; 

Often she in his face gazed silently ; 

Then would her eye-lids close, her bosom swell, 
Till, gushing through the lids, the tears abun- 
dant fell. 

Thou ! who didst nourish, in his infancy, 

The babe of Bethlehem, w r ith heavenly bliss ; 
Oh ! didst thou|think, with him, on Calvary, 
Thou e'er shouldst know so dread an hour as 

this? 
Whom thou, with reverential awe wouldst kiss 
And stay his infant cry ; thou mayst not now 

Release^him from excruciating pain ; 
Nor wipe the death sweat from his patient brow ; 
Nor staunch the death stream, from his dearest 

vein. 
A sword goes through thy soul, thy Son, thy 
Lord is slain ! 
g3 



106 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

With her, the wife of Cleophas : and she — 
Mary — the loving and the much forgiven ; 

And with those faithful sisters John we see, 
The only one of the beloved eleven — 
To him the love that knows no fear was given. 

When Jesus saw his tender mother nigh, 
And that disciple, his beloved one, 

Filled with a son's affection, standing by, 
Kindly he spake : " woman, behold thy son ;" 
Touched with the gracious words, her heart 
o'errun ; 

" Behold thy mother," to his friend, he said. 

How grateful did the precious token come ; 
From that dear hour, with filial care, he led 

Sad Mary to the quiet of his home ; — 

And did till death her faithful son become. 
Thou gentle heart ! that midst such pangs could 
move, 

And sinners pardon, mourning saints console ; 
For many waters could not quench thy love, 

Nor floods o'erwhelm it, though they fiercely 
roll ; — 

The eternal element, of thy eternal soul. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 107 

As yet, midst all this anguish, how serene ! 

The unconscious loveliness of nature's face ; 
How beautiful ! as death had never been, 

Flows the sweet sun-light, o'er that solemn 
place, 

Where Jesus suffered for the human race. 
And faith could almost weep, to see the day, 

Without one conscious token, gliding by ; 
Nor loved the mellow sun-beams, as they lay, 

In vernal glory, on mount Calvary ; — 

And beat on the faint heads of those who slow- 
ly die. 

But lo, a change ! Gone has the cheerful glow ; 

See, from the darkening heavens, the sun re- 
tire! 
And must thy soul a deeper anguish know, — 

Veiling the face of the Almighty sire ? 
Yes, in a living death the Saviour hung; 

While that tremendous darkness filled the sky ; 
In anguish then, beyond a mortal tongue, 

His soul in travail breathed that piercing cry, 

" Eloi, eloi, lama sabacthani !" 



108 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

" Hear him," they cry, " upon Elias call ;" 
Their scoffs renewed with the dispersing 
gloom, — 

While one presents the vinegar and gall — 
" Stay," cry the rest, "see if Elias come, 
To save his suppliant from impending doom. 5 ' 

Ye evening wolves ; that ravin for the prey ; 
Ye hearts of adamant ! that will not bend, 

Nor your remorseless hate its fury stay ; 

Soon, soon in death, your utmost power shall 

end ; — ■ 
And his freed soul to paradise ascend. 

Now in the beauty of its wonted glow, 

Again appears the lately darkened heaven ; 

As if the power of that strong cry of woe, 
Far, far away, the clouds of wrath had driven, 
And strength and calmness were to Jesus given. 

Up to the blue expanse, he lifts his eyes ; 

His dying eyes with coming triumph shine; — 

6( Father, " (in full confiding tones, he cries, 
Feeling the fatal hour,) " lo ! I resign 
My parting spirit to thy care benign." 






THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 109 

The intolerable thirst of torture's death, 

To close thy burning agonies, takes place ; 
Beneath the twining of that gory wreath, 

The damp cold sweat drops from thy patient 
face. — 

One pang remains, to seal thy work of grace. 
" I thirst," he cries. Ye cruel foes, who dare 

To mock the cravings of his utmost need ; 
Oh ! bitter as your hate the draught ye bear 

To those cold lips upon the sponge and reed ; 

'Tis his last woe, speed, ye tormentors, speed. 

Meekly his lips received the cup ol pain ; 

Then, from those lips, went forth a mighty cry ; 
Earth ne'er shall echo to its like again ; 

Rolling along her clear and silent sky, 

His dying song of perfect victory. 
" 5 Tis finished," Jesus cried ; oh happy sound ! 

When thy dear bride is gathered unto thee, 
And thou art with thy spousal garland crowned, 

These words, the burthen of her song shall be, 

And thrill the depths of bless'd eternity. 

He bows his head and now gives up the ghost ! — 
The breath of love has left those lips a while ! 



110 POEM IF. CANTO IV. 

Yet transient is the cold destroyer's boast, 

And even in death he wears a victor's smile. 

But while he looks so bless'd, so fair the while, 
What omens witness to his name around ! 

What means the rending of the rugged rocks? 
What means the trembling of the yawning ground 

Beneath the sudden earthquake's fearful shock? 

Why, from yon ancient tombs, do their pale 
tenants flock ? 

What means it, that the anointed priest turns pale, 
Offering the sacrifice at even-tide ? 

When suddenly is rent the holiest veil, 
Oh 'twas the expiring groan when Jesus died, 
Did the firm marble with its power divide ;■*-< 

And heaved the bosom of a world restored ; 
Opened the sepulchres of other days ; 

And on the ear of death, like music, poured — 
The resurrection power at once displays, 
And woke the saints to extacy of praise. 

11 'Tis finished !" Well these words the veil 
might rend. 
Shadows are past ; the true passover dies, — 
In him, the figures of the ritual end. 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. Ill 

He is the soul's eternal sacrifice ; 

He is the bridegroom, and with mystic ties 
And awful rites, he on mount Calvary 

Hath wed us to his agonizing breast. 
Yea, oh my soul ! he hath espoused thee ! 

And in the heaven of his eternal rest, 

Thou and the pardoned thief shall be forever 
bless'd. 

The bold centurion, pale and trembling, stands: 
His very soul in deepest wonder awed ; 

In full conviction cries, with lifted hands, 
" Truly, this Jesus was the Son of God." 
Oh ! who could stand upon that blood stained 
sod, 

And view the quaking earth, the opening grave, — 
The shivering rocks, the changing heavens see. 

Nor own the glorious record that he gave ? 
Yet the proud priests reject all nature's plea ; 
Deaf, when her solemn voice proclaimed his 
Deity. 

Now, lest their lingering death a feast should mar, 

They break the legs of the expiring thieves. 
Poor penitent ! behold the waiting car ; 



112 



POEM II. — -CANTO IV. 



Soon as thy soul thy tortured body leaves, 
Thy Jesus to his heaven that soul receives. 

The middle tree the soldiers next approach ; 
But death, consummate death, does there ap- 
pear ; 

Those pallid looks the awful truth avouch ; 
Yet one cold heart, that knew no love nor fear, 
Rushed to my Saviour with his open spear — 

And pierced him to the heart, and opened wide 
The crimson fountain of his love for me ; 

Gushed forth the purple and the chrystal tide ;— 
Oh ! let me ! let me bathe my soul in thee,— 
Stream of the rock, cleft on mount Calvary ; 

So shall I look on him I pierced, and weep 
Not tears of pain ; but grateful tears shall flow 

When thou shah come the shepherd of the sheep; 
And the dear wound, within thy side, shall glow, 
A blessed token to thy flock below. 

The day of days is o'er ; the sun has gone ; 
Soon will the ruddy twilight melt in gloom ; 

Yet still awhile, his lingering smile is thrown, 
In glorious beauty, o'er the land of doom J — 
Gilding the olden prophets garnished tomb, 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 113 

ind bathing, in its soft and solemn light, 

The unburied corse of Israel's holy One. 
So o'er the darkness of her long, long night, 
( A lingering twilight, from her heavenly sun, 
Shall hover o'er the land, ere mercy's day is 
done. 

And Pilate sat beneath his stately dome; 

The day, for him, had pass'd in ease and pride ; 
Je felt no tortures in his princely home : 

What though some vulgar malefactors died ? 

Greatness is not to sympathy allied. 
^Vho enters now the almost vacant hall ? 

His look is humble as a saint's can be ; 
Jut by the costly robes that round him fall, 
. Expressive of his state and quality, 
, A noble Jewish counsellor is he. 

fearless of the contempt of all his peers, 
To Pilate he prefers his tender plea, 

Sven with an earnestness almost to tears ; 
" Oh let the Governor bestow on me, 
The corpse of Jesus, from the accursed tree." 

)h true disciple ! though he could not save 
His dearest master from their cruel doom, 



114 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

In face of the whole priesthood hear him claim 
The body of their victim, to inhume 
With funeral honors, in his own new tomb. 

And Pilate, having learned that he was dead 
Beyond all doubt, now grants the fond request. 

And Joseph goes, new grace upon him shed, 
Through all his scorning brethren, inly bless'd, 
Till his dear Saviour in his tomb shall rest ; 

Till he has wept his fill o'er every wound. 
He thinks it long, and soon the hill he gains, 

There the close watching sentinels he found ; 
There yet upon the cross, the Lord remains, 
While all around unearthly silence reigns. 

And who has come to join the sacred rite, 

With myrrh and aloes to embalm his Lord ? 
'Tis Nicodemus; he who came by night, 

And drank salvation from the living word. 

With these some gentle hearts, whom love had 
stirred. 
Women, who watched to his last agony, 

(Behold ! the broken hearted Magdalene, 
The holy sisterhood from Galilee,) 



THE LAST DAYS OF JESUS. 115 

True mourners at this funeral are seen, 
Gathering around the cross with deep dejected 
mien. 

They take the body down : each cruel nail 

From the cold purple wounds they gently draw; 
At every touch the buriers waxed pale, 

And to each other looked their love and awe. 

But when the side's deep cavity they saw, 
Could these refrain ? did they not sob aloud ? 

Were they not loth that blessed face to miss 
As they enwrap him in the linen shroud ? 

Did they not kneel, and give the reverent kiss? 

For ne'er were funeral rites so full of grief as 
this. 

See to yon garden, move the mourning train ; 

And by the moon-beams lonely light, behold 
The sacred tomb where never man has lain ; 

There, in that house of silence, dark and cold 

They laid the Lord ; the ponderous stone they 
rolled, 
Ind turned away, with strong affection still. 

Till all was o'er, lingered the sisters there; 

H 



116 POEM II. — CANTO IV. 

Then slowly wind their way a-down the hill, 
And ere they sink to rest, with zealous care, 
A choice embalming for their Lord prepare. 

The priests and pharisees had known no rest ; 
And early, even on the Sabbath day, 

To Pilate with another suit they press'd, — 
With boding torment lest they lose their prey, 
" Lo, sir, we heard that bold deceiver say, 

— While yet alive — ' after three days are past, 
I will arise again.' — By thy command, 

Then, send a watch, seal the sepulchre fast ; 
Lest some disciple of his chosen band, 
Steal him away, while night o'erspreads the 
land, 

11 And to the people, in their falsehood, tell : 
i Jesus the bondage of the grave has burst ;' 

And through the rumor of this miracle, 
The final error shall exceed the first." 
Pilate, who saw their fear and pride accurs'd, 

Replied ; " ye have a watch, my power I grant, 
Go then, and make his grave sure as ye can." 

" Sure as ye can !" perchance that secret taunt, 



THE LAST DAYS OP JESUS. 117 

Like lightning through the accusing con- 
science ran, — 
A burning witness for the Son of Man. 

Haste blinded men. The Lord's sepulchre seal ; 

Charge well your watch ; the important trust 
secure. — 
Glory to Jesus ! your infuriate zeal 

Has made his resurrection yet more sure ; 
With every maddening shout that rose on high, 

When he to ignominious death was driven, 
Onward ye urged the hour of victory. 

Now to his rising have ye witness given, 

Strong as the everlasting gates of heaven. 



POEM III. 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 



H2 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS, 



CANTO I. 

Oh, Night ! how beautiful thou art alone ! 

Thy solemn charms are not for mortal eyes: 
I gaze upon thy solitary throne, 

While the whole world in chained slumber lies. 
How oft the Man of Sorrows, when below, 

When Night her melancholy reign began,. 
Prostrate upon some mountain's lonely brow, 

Poured forth his breaking heart in love to man> 

While the still hours of rest unheeded ran. 

But now no more on any silent hill, 

That prostrate form is seen in humble prayer ; 
No more the wrestlings of his spirit fill, 

With supplicating sighs, the hallowed air : 
For sinners' hands the sinner's friend have slain. 

In this deep solitude his grave I see — 
Oh, hopeless sight ! —bound in Death's icy chain, 
h3 



122 POEM III. — CANTO I. 

The heart that mourned, the tongue that plead 

for me, 
Upon yon lonely mount, or by the plashing sea. 

Are ye not conscious, oh ye watching stars ! 

In this momentous night, who slumbers here? 
Gleaming on this cold rock where Envy bars 

His holy sepulchre with jealous fear ; 
Glancing upon the armored sentinels, 

A rude and godless group, who, stretched 
around, 
Heed not the holy charm that round them dwells ; 

But many^soulless laugh, with idle sound, 

Awakes the echoes of this sacred ground. 

Though man may sleep in heartless unbelief, 
God shall a voice in silent Nature find ; 

Her rocks were rent before a Saviour's grief: 
Now when the chains of death that Savior bind 

Surely her stars, her sweet and solemn sky, 
Seem of some coming mighty change to tell. 

My soul is touched. Fly, ye swift moments, fly ! 
Dissolve the meaning of this secret spell, 
That bids my heart with awe prophetic swell. 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 123 

The stars are waning — day is at its birth — 
A faint grey tint along the east extends : — 

Oh God ! what shock has rocked the silent earth? 
What glorious angel from the sky descends t 
The affrighted keepers, as he downward wends, 

Upon the trembling ground are breathless thrown; 
While his immortal strength the angel bends, 

And, like some dying monster's parting groan, 

Back with harsh noise recoils the massive stone. 

What form serene, all majesty and light, 

Issues in glory from yon darksome cave ? 
By the dear scars he yet shall wear above, 

It is the man who died my soul to save ! 

Hail, conqueror over death, and o'er the grave ! 
Oh, let me wash thy feet with tears most free, 

Thou who the powers of earth and hell didst 
brave ; 
Yea bor'st thy Father's frown, that I might be 
Forever in the heaven of heavens with thee ! 

Confess' d the Resurrection and the Life ! 

Oh, pause before his vacant tomb awhile ! 
See how triumphant from his recent strife, 

Eternal joy breaks in his glorious smile ! 



124 POEM III. — CANTO I. 

Look on that face late marred with buffets vile; 
What full effusions of delight appear ! 

J Tis o'er — 'tis past — the great Redeemer's toil : 
The bright, the morning star is risen here, 
And heaven is filled with praise,and hell with fear. 

Angels are at his feet, with heaven's best songs ; 

But yet the Saviour's heart is on the wing : 
For his own dear redeemed, his spirit longs 

To turn to joy their cup of suffering ; 

O'er their glad hearts his living arms to fling ; 
To show them all that he for them has wrought ; 

To bid the founts of full salvation spring, 
Where their sad hearts had withered into 

drought — 
This is the work that fills his yearning thought. 

But viewless now awhile from human eyes, 

Is he who to his God has man restored ; 
Yet glorious beneath the shadowy skies, 

Throned on the rock, the angel of the Lord, 
There yet the guard stretched on the dewy 
sward, 
For their presumptuous watch are swooning 
thrown ; 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 125 

Nor will the priest's poor guerdon of reward 
Make them forget the terrors they have known, 
When God's strong angel rolled away the stone, 

Yes, there the angel sat ; but none could see, 

The radiant form, save they to whom 'twas 
given ; 
To other eyes a hidden mystery — 

Such privilege enjoy the sons of heaven ! 

Yea, at the earthquake when the seals were 
riven, 
A gifted eye might see the angels fair, 

Oh every purple cloud of morning driven, 
Flock to the tomb, rejoicing to be there, 
And filling with their hymns the charmed air. 



Falls the faint dawning on yon distant train ; 

From out the gates they come with gentle pace, 
Bearing their spicy burthens hand in hand, 

Tears in their eyes, and sorrow in their face : 

Yet all around them is a breathing grace, 
Hallowing their grief with its unearthly charm; 

Their Master's spirit in their looks we trace, 
Mild, though distressed, and sorrowful, but calm— 
They come their dear Redeemer to embalm. 



126 POEM III. — CANTO I. 

Yet one there is, whose large dark eyes o'erhung 
With deeper gloom fast melting into tears, 

And trembling arm about her sisters flung, 
Beyond the rest oppressed with pain appears: — 
Oh, Magdalene ! the stain of sinful years 

Removed by his all-purifying breath, 
The Crucified still to thy heart endears, 

As in that day when thy affection poured 

Thy costliest odors o'er thy honored Lord. 

But scarce the gate was passed when, sad, they 
said — 

" Who will for us the ponderous stone remove?" 
They could have rent it from its rocky bed, 

Had their frail hands been mighty as their love ! 

But Magdalene, whom deep affections move, 
Unlinked her from the band and onward pressed, 

And far before them reached the shady grove, 
Entered alone the sacred place of rest, 
As the pale morning moon was fading in the west. 

Veiled was the angel from her eyes that morn ; 

She only saw the cumbrous stone removed — 
She only saw that precious corpse was gone, 

And inward sighs her deep affliction proved — 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 127 

Then sought with quickened step his friends 
beloved, 
Peter and John — to these the tidings told — 
Their buried Lord she knew not where re- 
moved — 
The mighty stone away at distance rolled — 
And bids them hasten and the scene behold. 

Meanwhile the other Mary, and her train, 
More slow of step, yet with a fervent will, 

At last the consecrated garden gain, 
Come to embalm their Lord with utmost skill : 
They pass the gate — all is serenely still — 

Gently the many-tinted vapors lie 
Along the summit of that holy hill ; 

A^secret power in nature, from on high, 

Awes those who to the sepulchre draw nigh. 

But lo ! what awful vision meets their eyes, 
As, now advancing through the opening trees, 

The glorious form descended from the skies, 
Each of the sister band with trembling sees! 
A joy comes o'er them, like a grateful breeze 

That on the winter's verge preludes the spring ; 



128 POEM III. — CANTO I. 

Touched with an awe that did their spirits 
please, 
They, gazing, speechless to each other cling, 
While thus the angel of the Eternal King :— 

u Fear not ! I know 'tis Jesus whom ye seek — 

He is not here — the Lord has risen to-day, 
Even as before his death ye heard him speak : 
Lo ! now to Galilee he bends his way, 
There shall you meet your Lord — no longer 
stay- 
Spread the glad news as his dear friends you see, 
That Death and Hell are subject to his sway; 
Declared with power the Son of God to be, 
The Almighty Father of Eternity." 

They spoke not, but their gratulating looks, 
Exchanged in silence, all their bliss expressed; 

As with exulting souls their way they took, 
Pleased to obey the angel's high behest : 
Where Salem's towers gleam like a regal crest, 

As the pure light of day became more great, 
They to their sorrowing friends their course 
addressed ; 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS, 129 

Strange wonders met them ere they reached the 

gate, 
fet pause they not these wonders to relate. 

hit, now arisen from their dead affright, 
Towards the city quickly haste the guard, 

iaid to the priests report the eventful night : 
The wisdom of their gravest council marred— 
The rocking earth — the sepulchre unbarred — 

Mi' august descent of God's high angel there — 
The immediate resurrection of the Lord, 

n endless life majestically fair ! — 

These tidings drive the priesthood to despair. 

Tet, rallying their thoughts, in desperate spite, 

A large reward they to the soldiers gave ; 
lidding them say, " his followers came by night, 

And while we slumbered stole him from the 
grave. " 

Assuring them they would the danger brave, 
Should the bold falsehood spread to Pilate's court, 

And by their policy detection save ; 
'ersuading Pilate, in their wily sort, 
?o give his credence to their false report. 



130 POEM III.— CANTO I. 






Peter, and that disciple so beloved, 

Ran to the tomb when Mary's word was said, 
But, by the power of tender friendship moved, 

John was the first to reach the rocky bed — 

Yet went not in, perchance from solemn dread : 
But Peter followed, and, more bold to dare, 

Both entering, found no traces of the dead, 
But the new grave clothes lying folded there — 
So sadly leave the tomb, and to their friends re- 
pair. 

Poor Mary ! doubt ran chilling through thy breast: 
Thy Saviour's body gone ! an angel's word, 

Would have no power to give thy spirit rest : 
No less than plain communion with thy Lord, 
Could the true balm to thy sick heart afford. 

She wept, and, bending, gazed within the tomb — 
When, lo ! what glory on her sight is poured ! 

Two sons of heaven, in bright immortal bloom ! — 

Far flow their shining robes amidst the gloom. 

Guarding the sacred place where Jesus lay, 

They to the weeping friend of Jesus spake : — 
" Woman, why weepest thou V they kindly say — 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 131 

For that deep sobbing heart seemed nigh to 

break. 

11 Alas !" she cried, f< my Lord away they take, 

Nor know I now the place where he is laid :" — 

Away she turned — for nothing there could 

slake 

Her heart's full thirst in Life's true stream to 

wade, 
Nor Gabriel's pity could her sorrows aid. 

Alas, poor soul ! who now shall comfort her ? 

She turned, and by the morning twilight, saw 
One whom she thought to be the gardener — 

So plain the air the seeming stranger wore ; 

His pitying look but made her weep the more : 
<c Woman, why weepest thou V the stranger cried ; 

11 Whom dost thou seek, thy heart with griev- 
ing sore ?" 
While her full soul at every accent sighed ; 
She spake, and earnestly the stranger eyed : — 

11 If thou hast borne him hence, tell me, I pray 
Oh ! show me where his dear remains abide, 
That I may bear the blessed corpse away." 



132 POEM III. CANTO I. 

11 Mary !" the kind, familiar voice replied : — 
Deep through her soul the changing accents 
glide — 
'Tis her own Saviour ! 'tis her risen Lord ! 

One precious word alone her joy supplied : 
" Rabboni, Master I" all her heart was stirred, 
And poured its gladness in that one sweet word. 

" Touch me not, Mary ! for I have not yet 

Risen to my God, through yon empyrean sky: 
Go to my brethren — yet their brows are wet ; 

Yet for my death their doubtful spirits sigh. 

Tell them their risen Lord ascends on high ; 
I to my Father and your Father go, 

And to my God and yours : — the broken tie 
Is now renewed — and, through a Saviour's woe, 
Shall Love and Peace to endless ages flow." 

Bless'd messenger ! thy happy right to preach 
A risen Jesus, was not given by man ; 

Thy sweet commission his dear truth to teach, 
Pure from his lips in words of glory ran : 
Go forth, and tell, as none but sinners can, 

To thy lone friends, their Lord's triumphant love. 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 133 

Thus, when the deluge ceased, and peace began, 
With halcyon wings,o'erthe still waves to move, 
Forth o'er the waters flew the timid dove. 

But they believed not, for their faith was weak — 

So did their sorrows o'er their souls prevail ; 
And all the gladdening truth she came to speak 

To the apostles, seem an idle tale. 

But when she saw her ardent witness fail 
To rouse the courage of their drooping hearts 

Over her face again she drew the veil ; 
While from her eyes the tearful token starts, 
Grieved at their unbelief, the gentle saint departs. 

Meanwhile, her female friends pursue the road, 
Urged by the angel and their own desires, 

While fervent gladness in their spirit glowed : 
At last, in silent melody to heaven aspires, 
As if, in answer to th* ascending fires, 

Jesus himself appears with light replete ! 

They sink before him, like the angelic choirs, 

Clasp with a humble love his sacred feet, 

And with ecstatic awe a risen Saviour greet. 

i2 



134 POEM III. — CANTO I. 

"All hail!" was thy kind salutation, Lord, 

To these thy friends ! then, " Do not learful be ; 
(Oh ! how thy tenderness their hearts assured !) 

Go, bid my brethren haste to Galilee ; 

For there the risen Jesus shall they see u 
Swift as the summer lightning hastes away, 

He dlsappeared,even while they bend the knee: 
Awhile in deepest gratitude they pray — 
Then, silently go on their happy way — 






And other women on that day appeared 
At Jesus' grave, for the same deed of love ; 

And were by visions of immortals cheered, 
To heal their grief, commissioned from above: — 
Thus ever may the soul of woman prove 

The living temple of believing zeal ; 
Thus ever ready in his work to move, 

Thus ever may her God himself reveal, 

And on her heart his resurrection seal. 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 135 



CANTO II. 

Noon now was past : the golden, mellow day 

Rolled to the west : rich tints of purple hue, 
Along the sky in royal splendor lay, 

Varying the beauty of that deepening blue ; 

A goodlier day creation never knew ; 
A Sabbath smile o'er lovely nature shone : 

It was like heaven her placid face to view, 
And feel that peace the world has never known, 
About the gathered heart in silent musings 
thrown. 

See, linked like brothers true, where yonder pair 
To Emmaus* distant village bend their course ; 

With solemn gesture, and with sorrowing air, 
On some sad theme they earnestly discourse. 

[ But while the tears their frequent passage 
force, 

And while their burthened hearts in words they 

free, 

i3 



136 POEM III. — CANTO II. 

Another traveller, from some unknown source, 
With friendly spirit, joins their company — 
Then thus address'd the brethren courteously : — 

" What manner of communications, friends, 

Are these ye have as ye your way pursue ?"— 
Such goodness with his open bearing blends, 

At once their hearts in free communion drew. 

With solemn vehemence, one of the two, 
Cleophas named, to the strange traveller said — 

" Art thou a distant stranger, whom we view ? 
And hast not heard the events, so strange and 

dread, 
That through the land of Israel are spread V* 

" What are these wondrous things, of which ye 
speak t fi 

The unknown traveller again replied : 
Cleophas answered, with a kindling cheek — 

" Concerning one whose name is magnified, 
Who raised the dead, who quelled the impetuous 
tide — 

Jesus, the blessed Seer of Galilee ; 
And yet him our priests and rulers crucified 

Yea, caused the just and Holy One to be, 
, Condemned and slain upon th' accursed tree. 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 137 

:t But we had fondly trusted this was he, 
Who should our fallen Israel redeem : 

Besides all this, since his last agony, 
Thrice has the day repaired her golden beam, 
Yet certain women whotn we faithful deem, 

Who visited his sepulchre when dawn 
Spread o'er the orient her earliest gleam, 

Returning to us while we weep and mourn, 

Declare that that they had found his body gone ; 

But they a radiant apparition saw, 
Celestial messengers, who testified 

Jesus had risen, and should die no more- 
He whom the Jews on Calvary crucified : 
And through their words though some in doubt 
abide, 

Yet were there others of our company 

With ready haste who to the sepulchre hied, 

And found the grave all tenantless and free, 

But yet their living Lord they did not see." 

u Oh ! fools, and slow of heart" the stranger cries, 
" All that the seers have spoken to believe, — 
i4 



138 POEM III. CANTO II. 

While sudden lightning flashes from his eyes : 
u Why will ye not the scripture truth perceive, 
Concerning him for whom ye idly grieve ? 

Around his sacred and devoted head, 

These prophecies their rays unbroken weave ; 

The suffering, Death, the rising from the dead, 

The endless glory on Messiah shed." 






Then, with all searching light and thrilling 
power, 

Began the gracious traveller to explain, 
From early Moses to that present hour, 

Unlocking every word, that they might gain 

The full prediction of Messiah's pain — 
His torturing death — his resting in the grave — 

His resurrection and triumphant reign : 
River of life ! 'twas thy refreshing wave 
In every word he to their spirits gave. 

Emmaus, knowest thou what blissful scene 
Soon in thy quiet bosom will take place ? 

Thy evening heaven, it wears a look serene, 
As not unconscious of the coming grace. 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 139 

Now near thee, the three travellers we trace — 
Two have fulfilled the journey of the day : 

The other bids farewell with quickened pace, 
As he would further go another way — 
But both the brethren now constrained his stay. 

11 Abide with us," they said, " day is far spent" — 

And thus their hospitable spirit showed ; 
Yet mingling with that spirit's pure intent, 

x Vas the sweet influence he around them 
strowed : 

So precious was his lore along the road. 
Yet, seemingly, a slow assent he lends, 

Till they constrain him home to their abode ; 
But what a smile with his mild features blends, 
While following to their homes the happy friends I 

See, in that cool and shady place, is spead 
The light repast, and they partake the fare ; 

But, lo ! the stranger guest now takes the bread, 
And, rising, bless'd it as his own it were, 

And gave it with that well known look and tone : 
At once they saw the blessed Jesus there, 
i5 



140 POEM III. — CANTO II. 

At once their own beloved Lord was known, 
And the full heaven of heavens upon them shone. 

But while they gazed, he vanished from their 
sight, 

Yet his own joy he left upon their souls ; 
They, they had seen their risen Lord that night, 

And peace was their's, and joy beyond con- 
trol 

While from their eyes the tears of rapture roll. 
" Did not our hearts within us burn" they say, 

" While he unfolded the prophetic roll ? 
And while he talked with us upon the way, 
Did not our hearts confess his secret sway V* 



i. 



Love knows no weariness : to tell their friends, 
Back to the distant city they return, 

While the full moon the tranquil heaven ascends, 
Few were their words, their thoughts all lan- 
guage spurn. 

Oh! pure communion of the silent mind, 
When through the spirit we the soul discern, 
And to the love of Jesus all resigned, 

No words can tell the secret peace we find. 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 141 

They pass the gates, and now no time they lose, 

But seek that lonely room without delay, 
Where closely shut from terror of the Jews, 

The holy brethren have convened to pray. 

Entering, at once th' exulting words they say — 
11 The Lord has risen ! the Lord has risen in- 
deed ! 

'Twas he appeared to Simon on this day:" — 
Then with the happy story they proceed. 

But, while they speak, a sudden power has 
come — 

A solemn awe is o'er their spirits thrown ; 
And in the breathless stillness of that room, 

Jesus himself appears among his own ! 

<c Peace to my friends 1" he cries, with love 
unknown : 
How great their peace, if they could now believe ! 

But they, so timid and so doubtful grown, 
As though an apparition they perceive, 

With trembling fright to one another cleave. 

H Why are ye troubled, friends ! M the Saviour 
cried ; 



142 POEM 111. CANTO II. 

14 Why rise such fearful thoughts at what ye 
see?" 

Behold the tokens in my hand and side ! 
These are the wounds that show that I am he. 
Touch your Redeemer, and from doubt be free ! 

My living, breathing self to you restored . 
A spirit hath not flesh and bones like me ; 

It is your crucified and risen Lord — 

Believe, and in your hearts receive his word !" 

Doubt vanishes before a view so plain ; 

Yet hardly they, for very joy, believed : 
But, to remove what fear might yet remain, 

Part of their fare he presently received ; 

This simple act their hearts has quite relieved ; 
Now even faith is swallowed up in sight : — 

Jesus the gracious victory perceived ; 
Love from his eyes flowed in full streams of light- 
Then came the word of counsel and of might. 

" These are the words of prophecy, I said, 
While in the world, and dwelling with you still 

That all things ye in Moses' law have read, 
The Psalms and prophecies, I must fulfil." 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 143 

He spake, and, at the fiat of his will, 
Their minds expand revealed truth to see : 

Thus, went he on, with his unerring skill, 
Unveiling to their minds from error free ; 
The spirit of the hidden mystery. 

Then, at the close, " 'Tis written thus," he cries ; 

" And it behoved Christ to suffer thus, 
Then from the dead on the third day to rise, 

Redeeming man from the primeval curse : 

Go, then, and through the world his truth dis- 
perse, 
Repentance and remission in his name, 

To social man, to savage wild and fierce : 
Now are the merits of that death of shame 
The sole foundation of the sinner's claim. 

" Peace, peace be unto you ! as I am sent 
By my great Father, even so I send, 

With these glad tidings through the world's ex- 
tent, 
My chosen witnesses when I ascend." 
Now as with pleasing awe they all attend, 

Solemn,he near them drew and on them breathed; 
Instant they felt the Holy Ghost descend ! 



144 POEM III. — CANTO II. 

Like living fire about their souls it wreathed, 
As he the gift unspeakable bequeathed. 

" Receive the Holy Ghost ! Whatever sins 
Ye may remit, those sins are all forgiven ; 

He that from you no absolution wins, 

He hath not the absolving grace from heaven. " 
Thus he commissioned the elect eleven ; 

A right so plenary was given then, 

Because to them was a discernment given, 

Beyond the power of a mere human ken 

To penetrate and read the hearts of men. 

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the train, 
Was absent when the Saviour thus appeared : 

To him th' apostles' witness was in vain ; 
For still, in his misgiving heart, he feared 
Some phantom vision of his Lord revered. 

" Except I see, and search the marks," he cried, 
" Where the deep nails his hands and feet have 
seared, 

And thrust my hand into his living side, 

My heart shall still in unbelief abide." 

Eight days had passed — eight days a golden age ! 
They did not see their Lord in open view, 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 145 

But blissful hopes their happy thoughts engage, 

And days of heaven upon the earth they knew. 

For all the Roman and the watchful Jew, 
Thrice blessed Saviour ! even the very slave 

May have a secret treasure hid in thee : 
No circumstance can check thy power to save : 

And Afric's son in bonds in thee is free, 
Thou soul and spirit of true liberty ! 

Clear dawns the morning of the second week ; 

A living peace is in the glowing air ; 
Soft are the skies, so balmy and so meek, 

As the mild soul of Jesus hovered there, 

Calm as that morn, his followers repair 
; To yonder secret haunt — the door they close, 

For the Jews eyed them with suspicious care : 
Thomas alone feels not this blest repose, 
Not yet believing that his Lord arose. 

Bending their heads in silent prayer, they seem 
Feeling the power of his overwhelming hand, 

When, like the beauty of a glorious dream, 
Jesus did in their midst revealed stand ! 

i tl Peace be to you !" he said, and lifts his hand, 

In token of the blessing of his grace : 



146 POEM III. — UANTO II. 

Joy rose to fullness in that silent band, 
Save one, who stood and trembled in his place 
While love and shame contended in his face. 

" And is it true f" he thought ; " and is it he v\ 
Jesus, who read his soul with look benign, 

Spoke in his love — u thy finger reach to me, 
And see and feel these pierced hands of mine 
Yea hither reach that trembling hand of thine 

And thrust it here within thy Saviour's side ! 
Be thou convinced by this assured sign ; 

Let doubts and fears no more thy soul divide, 

But clasp in faith thy Jesus crucified. " 

Those marks, those cruel marks of death and 
shame, 

The love and mild^reproof together blent, 
The look of tenderness that'with it came, 

Deep to the heart of faithless Thomas went : — 

O'erwhelmed and lost in love's divine extent 
" My Lord ! my God !" he cries, with holy awe, 

As he his whole believing soul would vent, 
And would more humbly his dear Lord adore, 
For the cold unbelief he felt before. 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 147 

ipiinted on our hearts forever be 
The precious truth which Jesus then express'd! 
Thomas, thou hast believed in seeing me ; 
But those pure spirits are supremely bless'd, 
Who have not seen, and yet the Lord con- 

fess'd." 
hat consolation in that promise fell, 
For those who now desire in him to rest ! 
,in the confidence of faith they dwell, 
ley in the heavenly blessing shall excel. 



148 POEM III.— CANTO III. 



CANTO III* 

It fell upon a still and starry night, 
The fishermen apostles on the deep, 

Toiled with the net beneath that placid light, 
Yet all in vain the silver wave they sweep, 
And all in vain forbear their wonted sleep ; 

The needful treasure of the sea denied, 
Hungry and worn a weary vigil keep 

These few poor brethren, till the morning tide 

Yet was there one who all their labors eyed. 

When in the twilight of that rising glow, 
Upon that lonely shore a stranger stood ; 

None did the solitary traveller know : 
" Children," he asked, " say, have ye any food?" 

"No," they reply, with low, disheartened mind 
The stranger answers, studious of their good 

u Straight be your nets into the wave declined 

Upon the vessels right, and ye shall find." 



THE RESURRECTION OP JESUS. 149 

They, therefore, cast— and now they cannot draw, 

For multitude of fish, their heavy net ! 
At once his Lord the loved apostle saw 

Again on earth, with his poor followers met ! 

With tears of joy his glistening eyes are wet. 
As soon as Peter heard that it was he, 

He, with his zealous heart with love enflamed, 
Girds on, for reverence and for decency, 
His fisher's coat, ^nd leaps into the sea ! 

In their light barge, the others gain the land 
Dragging the net rich with the scaly prize : 

Soon as the happy brethren reach the strand, 
A cheering fire of coals invites their eyes, 
On which prepared their simple banquet lies. 

Near stood the kindly master of the feast, 
M Bring of the fish which ye have caught," he 
cries ; 

Quick Simon ran, ere yet the words had ceased, 

For ever with his faith his strength increased. 

Joy doubled strength at once — the net he drew, 

Full of great fishes to the ample shore ; 
But, though so large, and so abundant too 



150 £OEM III. — CANTO Hi. 

Their weight the net miraculously bore. 

The feast is ready when the toil is o'er ; 
The great provider bids them come and dine : 

None of them said, " Who art thou? filled 
with awe, 
For well they traced, in every blessed sign, 
His love benignant, and his power divine. 






When they had dined, the Lord to Peter turned : 

" Say, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me t" 
Even more than these, the soul of Peter burned : 

"Thou knowest thy servant dearly loveth thee." 
« Feed thou my lambs,— (if such thy love may 
be.") 

Yet still the searching question he pursues : 
Still, " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me f * 

His warm confession Peter still renews : 
" Feed thou my sheep !" again the mild decree 
Restores the apostolic liberty. 

Yet the third time, " Lovest thou indeed V 1 said 
he: 
He who had thrice denied him, grieving, heard: 
"All things," he cried, " are manifest to thee ; 



T&ti JtESURRECTlON OF JEStS. I5i 

t'hou knowest that I dearly love thee Lord !" 

" Feed thou my sheep !" he spake, and peace 
restored ; 

And a new unction on his servant poured. 
Thus with his own he oft will meekly chide : 

Oh, be his wisdom and his grace adored ! 
Thus to the quick the sinner's heart is tried. 
Ere yet th' absolving blood can be applied. 

A light prophetic shone in Jesus' face : 

" Verily, verily, I say to thee, 
Thou gird'st thyself now in thy youthful days, 

And goest forth where'er thy will may be : 

But when thou liv'st the years of age to see, 
Another girds and bears thee from thy home, 

Whither thou wouldst not by thy own decree." 
Thus he foretold what death, in time to come, 
Should be that follower's crown of martyrdom. 

Then thus he spake to Cephas : " Follow me !" 
Perchance for conference to the world un- 
known, 

For many a spiritual, deep mystery, 

Was doubtless to these early followers known. 
Perhaps he willed some token should be shown, 



152 POEM III. — CANTO III. 

He did his peace, his confidence restore, 

That Peter among his brethren should be 
known 
As one whose sins were freely covered o'er, 
And grace was more abundant than before. 

But there was one who fain must follow too, 
As Cephas with the Saviour turned away, 

The loved disciple whom affection drew : 
Cephas beheld him lingering in the way, 
While his own thoughts on future visions stray. 

" Tell me," he said, "what shall this follower be?" 
Jesus replied, " If I should will his stay, 

Even till I come, his fate is nought to thee : 

This be thy only care — to follow me." 

Like a faint light across the eastern heaven, 

Appears the dawn ; but brightly lingering yet, 
The morning stars to thee their light have given, 

Oh ! haunt of angels, holy Olivet ! 

But now, thus early, in thy shades are met, 
Not heavenly spirits, but redeemed men : 

The blessed One this hour and place have set; 
Here will he meet his chosen band again, 
Though yet invisible to mortal ken. 






THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 153 

TV eleven are there, the chosen company : — 
The daiJy sun, in his unending round, 

No nobler fellowship shall ever see — 
Now by a holier tie of friendship bound, 
Than those convened upon this sacred ground. 

These, heavenly King ! thy regal jewels are ! 
With these, Immanuel is richly crowned : 

A life of toil and suffering they bear, 

\nd then the triumph of their Saviour share. 

Perhaps even now, above that holy height, 
The destined chariot of the cloud appeared, 

Floating upon that pure and flowing light ; 
Perhaps the sight the great Redeemer cheered: 
For now the Lord's advancing step was heard 

By his loved brethren, in that silent place : 
At once they deeply joyed, at once they feared. 

As he before them stood, his heavenly face 
All luminous with majesty and grace, 

He spake what glory in their souls had birth ; 
Yet at his voice their inmost soul was awed ! 

" All power is given to me in heaven and earth ; 
Go, in the might of your ascending Lord — 

Go, from Jerusalem, through every coast, 



154 POEM III. — CANTO HI. 

And preach the gospel of a heaven restored ; 
Go, gather in the great redeemed host, 
Baptised to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

14 Pie shall be saved, who does the truth receive 

And he is lost who does the truth repel : — 
These signs shall follow all who thus believe : 

They, in my name, shall quell the powers o 
hell, 

And with new tongues shall heavenly wonder 
tell— 
Shall tread on serpents, and no deadly thing 

Shall hurt the precious souls who in me dwell 
Their hands imposed beneath my healing wing! 
Life to the dead, health to the sick shall bring] 

u But do not from Jerusalem remove : 
Behold, my father's promise soon I send ; 

Lo ! the baptising spirit of his love, 
E'er many days, shall on your head descend 
Then through the world your mission course 
you bend." 

" Lord," said his followers, "wilt thou at this day' 
The kingdom from the foes of Israel rend V 1 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 155 

Tor still their darkness was not turned away, 
hich looked for power, and pomp, and earthly 
sway.) 

'Tis not for you," the Saviour kindly said, 

H The times and seasons God alone can know, 
£ut when the Holy Ghost on you is shed, 

He will mysterious revelations show ; 

Yea, will abundant power and gifts bestow, 
That ye may tell the gospel's priceless worth : 

Through holy land your burning words shall 
glow— 
^or only through the country of your birth, 
5ut to the utmost parts of all the earth. 

' Come round me all !" They gather round the 
Lord, 
He spreads his pierced hands and lifts his eyes, 
!&nd his full heart the parting blessing poured : 
. But, while he spake, from yonder mountain 

skies : 
See the cloud sink, tinged with the morning dyes! 
A.mazed, they see the opening cloud enclose 
The Man who made the atoning sacrifice ; 



1 



III. — CANTO III. 

And every mind with love and wonder glows, 
Watching that cloudy chariot as it rose. 

Yea, even while he bless'd the chosen few, 
While yet the listening ear his voice attenc 

While yet the eye his brightening face may vi 
Their parted Lord to the high heavens asce 
Far from the gaze of his adoring friends : 

The cloud receives him from their longing s 
On the far rising cloud their gaze they 

And even when that cloud is lost in light, 

Watch as they saw their Saviour's upward 

While steadfast thus, two angel forms the) 
Who, clothed in white apparel, near them 

Kindly they spake — " Ye men of Galilee 
Why fix ye on yon heaven your earnest 
This Jesus, whom your eyes would fain ) 

Shall in like manner from yon heaven ret 
Sweet cousolation thus the mourners dz 

A lively and a soothing hope they learn, 

And, peaceful, to Jerusalem return. 



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